Love's Tributaries by Gilbert Parker — Read

I can say now, "There was the confluence / Of all Love's tributaries; there the sea / Of Love spread out towards eternity; / And there my coarser touched her finer sense.

Poor though I am in my own sight, I know / That thou hast winnowed, sweet, what best I am; / Upon my restlessness thy ample calm / Hath fallen as on frost-bound earth the snow.

It hideth the harsh furrows that the wheels / Of heavy trials made in Life's champaign; / Upon its pure unfolding sunshine steals,

And there is promise of the spring again.

Here make I proclamation of my faith, / And poise my fealty o'er the head of Death. "