Of all the grand sights I have seen and known, For which youthful deference bade me lose, It is only you, I would have wished shown, And only you, my soul would gladly choose, From my guileless hand, arcane fires surge forth And boundless light blooms against aching dark, By your sweetest fire, I find my home hearth, For that fire, lonely night I embark, But, my flower, you do join in my search, Your hand, your touch, makes loneliness no more, With you, no step brought stretch, no yard a lurch, In your touch, I do not struggle; I soar. The sight of you is blessing beyond word, But to love you, is the wonder preferred.