James Russell Lowell (1819–1891)

MAIDEN, when such a soul as thine is born,

The morning stars their ancient music make

And joyful once again their song awake,

Long silent now with melancholy scorn;

And thou, not mindless of so blest a morn,

By no least deed its harmony shall break,

And shalt to that high clime thy footsteps take

Through life’s most darksome passes unforlorn;

Therefore from thy pure faith thou shalt not fall,

Therefore shalt thou be ever fair and free

And in thine every motion musical

As summer air, majestic as the sea,

A mystery to those who creep and crawl

Through Time and part it from Eternity.