Page:Poems Denver.djvu/179

  "From the desolating pain,
  The soul-enthralling chain,
        Around it thrown,—
The heart-felt agony
No other eye may see;
'Tis a fearful thing to be
        So long alone.

  "To hear no kindly word,
  To feel no bosom stirred,
        To see no ray
Across my pathway thrown,
That misery's self would own;
But to plod on, alone,
        On life's dull way.

  "Come! Spirit! come to me!
  Thy bright intensity
        Will break the thrall:
Come, to the dewy flower,
Come, to the moon-lit bower,
Come, at the sunset hour,—
        I love them all!

  "Fain would I see once more
  Thy generous spirit pour
        Its influence around;
As when rival roses blushed,
And the star-lit wave was hushed,
And the sunset hour was flushed
        At the glad sound.