Sidney Henry Morse (1833–1903)

THE SOUL I dwell within

Forgets my load of sin,

And circles me

With amorous glee,

To win my first faint smile

Of love that bodes no guile;—

Unfolds my heart the while,

And sets me free.

Delights she to surprise

Me with some thought that hies

To heaven straightway:

Then all the day

I wander o’er the earth,

And find not half its worth;

Yet lose I not my mirth,

And pray, and pray.

Oh! I am precious seed

Thus planted for her meed:

My offish ways

And long delays

She takes no notice of,

But steadily doth move

Upon my heart with love,

Nor doubt displays.

Now I shall make return,

And my love’s taper burn

For my good soul,

As towards the goal

My steps I hourly bend;

And to the flame yet lend

Increase, far to the end,

Till love be whole?