LXXIX

I SEE thee better in the dark,

I do not need a light.

The love of thee a prism be

Excelling violet.

I see thee better for the years

That hunch themselves between,

The miner’s lamp sufficient be

To nullify the mine.

And in the grave I see thee best—

Its little panels be

A-glow, all ruddy with the light

I held so high for thee!

What need of day to those whose dark

Hath so surpassing sun,

It seem it be continually

At the meridian?