Louise Chandler Moulton

* * *

WERE but my spirit loosed upon the air,--
By some High Power who could Life's chains unbind,
Set free to seek what most it longs to find,--
To no proud Court of Kings would I repair:
I would but climb, once more, a narrow stair,
When day was wearing late, and dusk was kind;
And one should greet me to my failings blind,
Content so I but shared his twilight there.
Nay! well I know he waits not as of old,--
I could not find him in the old-time place,--
I must pursue him, made by sorrow bold,
Through worlds unknown, in strange Celestial race,
Whose mystic round no traveller has told,
From star to star, until I see his face.