The Blind Girl

If I might see his face to-day!--
He is so happy now!--To hear
His laugh is like a roundelay--
So ringing-sweet and clear!
His step--I heard it long before
He bounded through the open door
To tell his marriage.--Ah! so kind--
So good he is!--And I--so blind!

But thus he always came to me--
Me, first of all, he used to bring
His sorrow to--his ecstasy--
His hopes and everything;
And if I joyed with him or wept,
It was not long the music slept,--
And if he sung, or if I played--
Or both,--we were the braver made.

I grew to know and understand
His every word at every call,--
The gate-latch hinted, and his hand
In mine confessed it all:
He need not speak one word to me--
He need not sigh--I need not see,--
But just the one touch of his palm,
And I would answer--song or psalm.

He wanted recognition--name--
He hungered so for higher things,--
The altitudes of power and fame,
And all that fortune brings:
Till, with his great heart fevered thus,
And aching as impetuous,
I almost wished sometimes that he
Were blind and patient made, like me.

But he has won!--I knew he would.--
Once in the mighty Eastern mart,
I knew his music only could
Be sung in every heart!
And when he proudly sent me this
From out the great metropolis,
I bent above the graven score
And, weeping, kissed it o'er and o'er.--

And yet not blither sing the birds
Than this glad melody,--the tune
As sweetly wedded with the words
As flowers with middle-June;
Had he not told me, I had known
It was composed of love alone--
His love for her.--And she can see
His happy face eternally!--

While I--O God, forgive, I pray!--
Forgive me that I did so long
To look upon his face to-day!--
I know the wish was wrong.--
Yea, I am thankful that my sight
Is shielded safe from such delight:--
I can pray better, with this blur
Of blindness--both for him and her.