Celia Thaxter

Beloved

A STRONG sweet tide toward the lonely shore
    Sets steadfastly, till every inlet sings,
And to the waiting silence, blank before,
         Its full refreshment brings.
 
Through the day’s business passing to and fro,
    Ever she grows more conscious of the charm
Upholding her wherever she may go,
         Like some enfolding arm.
 
For this dear joy all days more fair do seem,
    The night’s repose more blissful and more deep,
As pillowed on the breast of this sweet dream
         Softly she falls asleep.
 
Safe is she, lifted all earth’s ills above;
    No storm can break her calm, no evil reach
Within the charmèd circle drawn by Love,
         Blest beyond thought or speech.
 
O maiden, dream thy dream! Life’s crown of thorns,
    Draws it not down, unseen, about thy brows?
The glory of thy summer eves and morns
         Stern winter shall espouse.
 
Within this Eden of thy sweet content
    No mortal stays, —that, the great gods forbid;
But canst thou learn that in thy banishment
         A higher good lies hid?
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