The Ideal
The night is dark and warm and very still,
Only the moon goes pallid and alone;
The moon and I the whole wide heavens fill,
And all the earth lies little, lost, unknown.
I walk along the byways of my Soul,
Beyond the streets where all the world may go.
Until at last I reach the hidden goal
Built up in strength where only I may know.
For in my Soul a temple have I made.
Set on a height, divine and steep and far.
Nor often may I hope those floors to tread.
Or reach the gates that glimmer like a star.
O secret, inner shining of my dream.
How clear thou risest on my soul to-night !
Forth will I fare and seek the heavenly beam.
And stand within the precincts of the light.
And I will press beyond the curtain'd door.
And up the empty aisle where no one sings;
There will I fall before thee and adore.
And feel the shadowy winnowing of thy wings.
158
