To

To -

One word is too often profaned

For me to profane it,

One feeling too falsely disdain'd

For thee to disdain it:

One hope is too like despair

For prudence to mother',event)">smother,

And pity from thee more dear

Than that from another.

I can give not what men call love:

But wilt thou accept not

The worship the heart lifts above

And the Heavens reject not, -

The desire of the moth for star,

Of the night for the morrow,

The devotion to something afar

From the sphere of our sorrow?