'@3Du hast Diamanten@1' THOU hadst all Passion's splendor, Thou hadst abounding store Of heaven's eternal jewels, Belovèd; what wouldst thou more? Thine was the frolic freedom Of creatures coy and wild, The melancholy of wisdom, The innocence of a child, The mail'd will of the warrior, That buckled in thy breast Humility as of Francis, The self-surrender of Christ; And of God's cup thou drankest The unmingled wine of Love, Which makes poor mortals giddy When they but sip thereof. What was't to thee thy pathway So rugged mean and hard, Whereon when Death surprised thee Thou gav'st him no regard? What was't to thee, enamour'd As a red rose of the sun, If of thy myriad lovers Thou never sawest one? Nor if of all thy lovers That are and were to be None ever had their vision, O belovèd, of thee, Until thy silent glory Went forth from earth alone, Where like a star thou gleamest From thine immortal throne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EMERGENCY HAYING by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST LEFT-HANDED POEM by JAMES GALVIN PERSPECTIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TWENTY-FOUR HOKKU ON A MODERN THEME by AMY LOWELL |