SWEET EVA! shall I send thee forth, to other hearts to speak?
With all thy timidness and love companionship to seek?
Send thee with all thy abstract ways, thy more than earthly tone—
An exile, dearest, send thee forth, thou, who art all mine own!
Thou art my spirit's cherished dream, its pure ideal birth;
And thou hast nestled in my heart, with love that's not of earth.
Alas! for I have failed, methinks, thy mystic life to trace;
Thy holiness of thought and soul, thy wild enchanting grace.

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16

Thou dwellest still within my heart, thy beauty all unsung;
Like bells that wake the village ear, by echo sweeter rung;
And as thy graces one by one upon my fancy steal,
There lingereth yet another grace the soul alone can feel.
With thee I've wandered, cherished one, at twilight's dreamy hour,
To learn the language of the bird, the mystery of the flower;
And gloomy must that sorrow be, which thou couldst not dispel,
As thoughtfully we loitered on by stream or sheltered dell.

Thou fond Ideal! vital made, the trusting, earnest, true,
Who fostered sacred, undefiled, my heart's pure, youthful dew;
Thou woman-soul, all tender, meek, thou wilt not leave me now
To bear alone the weary thoughts that stamp an aching brow!
Yet go! I may not say farewell, for thou wilt not forsake,
Thou'lt linger, Eva, wilt thou not, all hallowed thoughts to wake?
Then go; and speak to kindred hearts in purity and truth;
And win the spirit back again, to Love, and Peace, and Youth.