Maria (White) Lowell (1821–1853)

I LOVE thee for thyself,—thyself alone;

For that great soul, whose breath most full and rare

Shall to Humanity a message bear,

Flooding their dreary waste with organ tone;

The Truth that in thine eyes holds starry throne

And coins the words that issue from thy lips,

Heroic courage that meets no eclipse,

And humbler virtues on thy pathway strewn,—

These love I so, that if they swift uprise

To sure fulfilment in more perfect spheres,

Still will I listen underneath the skies

For thy new song, with seldom dropping tears,

And midst my daily tasks of love will wait

The angel Death—Guardian of Heaven’s gate.