MY love, despise not love in your high thought;
For see what weakness finds the power to do
Here in my failing heart for love of you,
And how my bruisèd, feeble hand hath brought
Here to your feet the treasure that you sought,
Warm from the furnace of a passion true;
'Twas perfect love made all my spirit new,
And helped me to accept the task you taught.

Oh, doubt not! all the wisdom of the soul
Grows wiser in love's light, and stronger still
The sweet, fierce strength of high and holy will,
To be and bear and brave the very whole:--
Ay, love doth aid the dauntless to fulfil;
And holds his compass steady to the pole.