To the Unattainable.
Dear, how many the songs I bring to you1
Woven of dream-stuffs, pleasure and pain,2
All the songs of my life I sing to you,3
And you hear, and answer again.4
Though no rhyme do your dear lips say to me,5
Yet, my poet, sweet songs you bring ;6
When you smile, then the angels play to me7
Tunes to the silent songs you sing.8
All my soul goes forth in a song to you,9
All my deeds for your sake are done,10
All my laurels and bays belong to you,11
In your name are my battles won.12
Just by living you make life dear to me,13
Though your lips never speak my name ;14
’Tis your hands that in dreams appear to me,15
Bringing me all that I ask of fame.16
What though here you are wholly lost to me,17
Though you never will know or see,18
Though life’s pain be this worship’s cost to me,19
Am I not richer than great kings be ?20
Have I not you, in the holiest heart of me—21
You, in the eyes which see you alone ?22
Shall I not rise to your soul, which is part of me,23
Till you shall meet me and know your own ?24