George Willis Cooke, comp. The Poets of Transcendentalism: An Anthology. 1903.
To the IdealEllen Sturgis Hooper (18121848)
A
Thou life above me, and aspire to be
A dweller in thy air serene and pure;
I wake, and must this lower life endure.
Mine droop so dimmed, in vain my weak sense tries
To find the color of this world of clay,—
Its hue has faded, its light died away.
What most I want, does it refuse to give.
Thou, who hast laid this spell upon my soul,
Must be to me henceforth a hope and goal.
Armor from life in which may yet be fought
A way to thee,—thy memory shall inspire,
Although thy presence is consuming fire.
And fair domains of this ancestral home,
Goes forth to labor, yet resolves those walls,
Redeemed, shall see his old age cease to roam,—
Thou castle where my wild thoughts wandered free,
Yet, bear a heart, which, through its love and truth,
Shall earn a right to throb its last with thee.
Subdued by patient toil Time’s heavy wrong;
Through nature’s dullest, as her brightest ways
We will march onward, singing to thy praise.
Like thine, immortal, by immortal aid,
And with forgiving blessing stand beside
The clay in which they toiled and long were tried.
Light of the soul’s light! present be thy power;
And welcome be thou, as a friend who waits
With joy, a soul unsphered at heaven’s gates.