To the Spirit of Poetry

All things are changed save thee, — thou art the same,
Only perchance more dear; as one friend grows
When other friends have turned away. Who knows
With what strange joy thou didst my Ufe inflame
Before I took upon my lips the name
Which vows me to thy service? Come thou close;
For to thy feet, to-day, my being flows,
As when, a boy, for comforting I came.

Thou, whose transfiguring touch makes speech divine;
Whose eyes are deeper than deep seas or skies, —
Warm with thy fire this heart, these lips of mine,
Lighten the darkness with thy luminous eyes.
Till all the quivering air about me shine.
And I have gained my spirit's Paradise!