William Patrick McKenzie (1861–1942)

SO long he walked a desert bleak and bare

No added grief could rouse him to surprise;

And one was with him in unseemly guise,

Yet gentle-voiced, who led him from despair;

He knew her mantle hid a face most fair,

He felt the veilèd glory of her eyes,

And in the luxury of glad surmise

Forgot his weariness and all his care.

At length uprose a portal dark before,—

‘I lead thee to the truth; its joy is thine’;

Then light burst forth whenas she swung the door,

And so celestially her face did shine

His heart was thrilled, and then he turned to go

Joyward reluctant, for he loved her so!