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| I SAW thy beauty in its high estate | |
| Of perfect empire, where at set of sun | |
| In the cool twilight of thy lucent leaves | |
| The dewy freshness told that day was done. | |
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| Hast thou no gift beyond thine ivory cone’s | 5 |
| Surpassing loveliness? Art thou not near— | |
| More near than we—to nature’s silentness; | |
| Is it not voiceful to thy finer ear? | |
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| Thy folded secrecy doth like a charm | |
| Compel to thought. What spring-born yearning lies | 10 |
| Within the quiet of thy stainless breast | |
| That doth with languorous passion seem to rise? | |
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| The soul doth truant angels entertain | |
| Who with reluctant joy their thoughts confess: | |
| Low-breathing, to these sister spirits give | 15 |
| The virgin mysteries of thy heart to guess. | |
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| What whispers hast thou from yon child-like sea | |
| That sobs all night beside these garden walls? | |
| Canst thou interpret what the lark hath sung | |
| When from the choir of heaven her music falls? | 20 |
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| If for companionship of purity | |
| The equal pallor of the risen moon | |
| Disturb thy dreams, dost know to read aright | |
| Her silver tracery on the dark lagoon? | |
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| The mischief-making fruitfulness of May | 25 |
| Stirs all the garden folk with vague desires: | |
| Doth there not reach thine apprehensive ear | |
| The faded longing of these dark-robed friars, | |
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| When, in the evening hour to memories given, | |
| Some gray-haired man amid the gathering gloom | 30 |
| For one delirious moment sees again | |
| The gleam of eyes and white-walled Erzeroum? | |
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| Hast thou not loved him for this human dream | |
| Or sighed with him who yester-evening sat | |
| Upon the low sea-wall, and saw through tears | 35 |
| His ruined home, and snow-clad Ararat? | |
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| If thou art dowered with some refinëd sense | |
| That shares the counsels of the nesting bird, | |
| Canst hear the mighty laughter of the earth, | |
| And all that ear of man hath never heard, | 40 |
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| If the abysmal stillness of the night | |
| Be eloquent for thee, if thou canst read | |
| The glowing rubric of the morning song, | |
| Doth each new day no gentle warning breed? | |
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| Shall not the gossip of the maudlin bee, | 45 |
| The fragrant history of the fallen rose, | |
| Unto the prescience of instinctive love | |
| Some humbler prophecy of joy disclose? | |
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| Cold vestal of the leafy convent cell, | |
| The traitor days have thy calm trust betrayed; | 50 |
| The sea-wind boldly parts thy shining leaves | |
| To let the angel in. Be not afraid! | |
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| The gold-winged sun, divinely penetrant, | |
| The pure annunciation of the morn | |
| Breathes o’er thy chastity, and to thy soul | 55 |
| The tender thrill of motherhood is borne. | |
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| Set wide the glory of thy perfect bloom! | |
| Call every wind to share thy scented breaths! | |
| No life is brief that doth perfection win. | |
| To-day is thine—to-morrow thou art death’s! | 60 |
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