The Chalice

Not by my power alone, but thou and I
Together thinking, working, loving on
Achievement-wards, as all brave souls have gone,
Perchance should find new star-drifts in the sky

That curves above humanity, and set
Some new interpretation on life’s page;
Should serve the strivings of a widening age,
And fashion wisdom from the social fret.

Deep did Time’s lances go; thou pluck’st them forth,
And on my sullen woundings laid the balm
Of thy life’s sweetness. Oh, let my love be worth

The keeping. My head beneath thy palm,
Once more I lift Love’s chalice to thine eyes:
Not till thou blessest me will I arise.