This poem was first published in Cor Cordium (1913), and was also included in Selected Poems (1925).
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All night I lay in low despair,
   Torn by a tempest, passion-deep,
And while my lips were framed to prayer,
   My blinding eyes would weep.

"Great Love," I cried, "if thou hast ears
   And art not wholly reason-blind,
If pity may be taught with tears,
   Look in my steadfast mind!

"Behold! the little all I have
   I give thee; freely take, and twine
Thy tendrils in my heart, and save
   This watcher at thy shrine!

"My soul is dark with treason-blots,
   That I have surely sinned, I own,
All day I wander in deep grots
   As speechless as a stone;

"Or where the mill-dam sleeping lies,
   A pure, unruffled, scented pool,
Or welter under cloudless skies,
   Untaught in Wisdom's school!

"But though I move abroad unseen,
   In leafless groves, and balmless bowers,
Yet I have kept thy memory green
   And decked thy shrine with flowers!

"And I have plucked a trembling rose,
   And laid it on thy altar stone,
With incense of a hundred vows,
   Each tendered with a moan!

"Yet if I suffer what is just,
   And justice prove aright in thee,
Then I will suffer for I must,
   Pour all thy wrongs on me!"

Love heard, and from his shining height
   Smiled on my sorrow, gentle-wise;
Peace fell, and rivers of delight
   Fast flooded in my eyes.


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