Charles Anderson Dana (1819–1897)

MY love for thee hath grown as grows the flowers,

Earthly at first, fast rooted in the earth,

Yet, with the promise of a better birth,

Putting forth shoots of newly wakened powers,

Tender green hopes, dreams which no God makes ours;

And then the stalk, fitted life’s frosts to bear,

To brave the wildest tempest’s wildest art,

The immovable resolution of the heart

Ready and armed a world of ills to dare;

And then the flower, fairest of things most fair,

The flower divine of love imperishable,

That seeth in thee the sum of things that are,

That hath no eye for aught mean or unstable,

But ever trustful, ever prayerful, feeleth

The mysteries the Holy Ghost revealeth.