My dear, I’ve loved you ardently and long—
But longer still I’ve loved our Father, God.
My love of Him swells small affections strong,
And flesh to soul, like child to sire, must nod.
And so, my dear, I feel with you the thrills
That grace the passing moments of the day—
The laughs, the scenes, the little charms and frills
That entertain our instants on their way.
But God alone receives my secret stream:
The sweet broad measure of unbarred delight
That counts all things as figments of His dream
And you—and all—reflectors of His might.
For man may bring to life God’s hidden call,
But cannot be the essence of it all.