“ My soul surged towards thy love's controlling power;
And, quickened now with the sun's splendid might,
Breaks into unimaginable flower,
Knowing thy soul knows this for beacon-light--
The culmination of the harvest hour.
VICTORY
Because your strife and labour have been vain,
Ye who have striven, shall I forego, forget
The far-off goal where to my feet were set
In the old days when life was first made plain? ”

“ I wait not now till that clear dawn be born
Shall lead my feet (O Love, thine eyes are worn
With watching) where her feet have late been led;
Nor lie awake, saying the words she said--
(Her yellow hair.--Have ye seen yellow corn?) ”

“ Did turn, the first shy mayflowers still are met?
I who have sought, yea, who am seeking yet,
What pain have I like unto your sore pain?
So let me go as one yearning, that braves,
With shipmen that have knowledge of the sea,
The wind disastrous and the ponderous waves
(Because his love dwells in some far countree) ,
Crying, "Not one of all your million graves
Is deep enough to keep my love from me!"
THE LAST STORM
From north, from east, the strong wind hurries down
Against the window-pane the sleet rings fast ”