CONSTANCY

Ah, Love, I know that to my love thou art,

And must be, in this life, a dream,— a name!

But be it joy or grief, or praise or blame,

I give thee all the worship of my heart.

‘ Tis not for Love to bid life's cares depart;

Love wings the soul for Heaven whence it came.

Such love from Petrarch's soul did Laura claim,

And Beatrice to Dante did impart.

To thee I turn,— be thou or near or far,

And whether on my love thou frown or smile,—

As, in mid-ocean, to some fairy isle

Palm-crowned; as, in the heav'ns, to eve's bright star

Whose pure white fire allures the vision, while

Myriads of paler lights unnoticed are!