Hearts that are glad
Beat quicker for the smiling of her lips;
Even as the summer air that seems o’ercharged
With fragrance, will grow even sweeter still
At sudden blossoming of one more rose.
But the rose, too,
Has her own secret. From the heavenly blue,
Regnant upon his throne of light, the sun
Sends her his glances; till the timid rose
Slowly, leaf after leaf, unveils to him
Her beauty; and the summer air at once
Takes to itself the soft and fragrant sigh,
Nor dreams she offered to a distant sun
The incense of her soul.
Even so I hear
You praise a sudden sweetness in her ways,
Grown strangely kind and tender to us all;
For me, I recognize the o’erfull heart,
Trembling and faint with effort to express
Surcharge of beauty that her soul has drawn
From one who stood above her.