I, trusting that the truly sweet
Would still be sweetly found the true,
Sang, darkling, taught by the heavenly heat,
Songs which were wiser than i knew.
To the unintelligible dream
That melted like a gliding star,
I said; 'We part to meet, fair Gleam!
You are eternal, for you are;
To Love's strange riddle, fiery writ,
In flesh and spirit of all create,
Mocker; I said, 'of mortal wit,
Me you shall not mock, I can't wait.
BY
(COVENTRY PATMORE)
