X.

But as Thou earnest forth to bring the Poor,

Whose hearts were nearer faith and verity,

Spiritual childhood, thy philosophy,—

So taught'st the A, B, C of heavenly lore;

Because Thou sat'st not, lonely evermore,

With mighty thoughts informing language high;

But, walking in thy poem continually,

Didst utter acts, of all true forms the core;

Instead of parchment, writing on the soul

High thoughts and aspirations, being so

Thine own ideal; Poet and Poem, lo!

One indivisible; Thou didst reach thy goal

Triumphant, but with little of acclaim,

Even from thine own, escaping not their blame.