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TO HELEN KELLER
Life has its limitations manifold:
All life; not only that which throbs in thee,
And strains its fetters, eager to be free.
The faultless eye may not thy vision hold—
Maiden, whose brow with thought is aureoled—
And they who hear may lack the ministry,
The august influence of Silence, she
Who brooded o'er the void in ages old.
Prisoner of the dark, inaudible—
Light, which the night itself could not eclipse,
Thou shinest forth Man's being to reveal.
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