Aspirations.

For that Thou pointest further still

Than that dumb hand upon the hour

Nor givest the boon to sap the will,

I thank Thee, wise and tender power.

For that Thou givest my soul some pride,

Not grudging sorrow for a mate,

For this my wild and lovely bride

I thank Thee, just, compassionate.

For that Thou givest my soul some strength

Of that high strength which rules the stars,

To brave the time and wait the length,

I bless Thy name and kiss my scars.