SHE caught my eyes and held them with her own: There might I read what speech would not betray, What human lips could never yet convey— The language that the heart must speak alone. In that brief moment was her spirit known: All the fierce doubts of many an anguish'd day, Pure from that radiance, pass'd in light away; Love robed and crown'd was to full stature grown! Bravely she faced me in that mute farewell, Proudly, yet pale, with virginal control, One look that made my heart's blood surge and swell, And then again sweet mastery of the whole. Unalterable love—ah, who can tell? Yet from my Pisgah I had view'd her soul! |