The Full Heart
If I could sing the song of her
Who makes my heart to sing;
If I could catch the words to match
Its secret blossoming;
My song should be a heaven of sound
Thrilled through a single note,—
The world of light that’s infinite
In one flower’s honey—throat!
A fountain diamonded in air,
Earth—blessing dews at night,
A dancing child, flames lovely—wild,
Should not so much delight.
But where I most have theme to boast
I stammer in my speech;
The full heart shames my faltering art
With music past its reach.
