Envoy

But thou didst rise, Maid Helen, as from sleep, A final tryst to keep With thy true lover, in whose hands thy life Lay, as in arms; his wife In heart as well as deed; his wife, his friend, His soul's fount and its end! For such it is, the marriage of true minds, Each in each sanction finds; So if her beauty lift her out of thought Whither man's to be brought To worship her perfection on his knees, So in his strength she sees Self glorified, and two make one clear orb Whereinto all rays absorb Which stream from God and unto God return.-- So, as he fared, I yearn To be, and serve my years of pain and loss 'Neath my walled Ilios, With my eyes ever fixt to where, a star, Thou and thy sisters are, Helen and Beatrice, with thee embraced, Hands in thy hands, and arms about thy waist.

1911-12.