A NAMELESS power lives in thy verse, <br />A gleam of things divine! <br />And with meek looks and claspèd hands <br />My spirit bows to thine. <br /> <br />Now beams thy soul-light on the heart, <br />Like morn-rise, soft and tender; <br />And now in wild, impassioned fire <br />Breaks forth with startling splendor. <br /> <br />We say, when gently steal along <br />Thy light, love-breathing numbers, <br />That Song's sweet angel whispering bends <br />Above thy nightly slumbers. <br /> <br />Anon there peals from out thy lays <br />A voice so clear and bold, <br />That we might almost dream thou wert <br />A prophetess of old. <br /> <br />The eye glows with unwonted fire, <br />The soul's still depths are stirred; <br />The heart leaps to intenser life <br />At every burning word! <br /> <br />We see on swift, untiring wing <br />The morning lark uprise, <br />Until his tuneful gush of joy <br />Floats faintly down the skies. <br /> <br />Thus thou art rising glad and free, <br />Thy wild song downward flinging, <br />Up toward the morning gates of heaven <br />Thy flight of glory winging.<br /><br />Grace Greenwood<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/valentine-to-a-poetess/
