Some lip will use her name--a rapt surprise,
Passing the heart's set ward, upon me steals.
One word, to me, doth one saint canonize;
And all the acquest of earth and heaven it seals.
I name that name, and doubt for me has ending,
And Sorrow, strong of old, forgets her part;
The battle-cry it is, to God ascending,
For all the triumphs of my labouring heart.
Ah, what is beauty's charge, what true, what dearest,
But that one lovely word will speak it home?
To splendour, to humility, 'tis nearest;
And the last depths of longing it can plumb.
The plaudit of all joy, all good it bears;
I breathe it, and a breath completes my prayers.
William Baylebridge's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Love's Saint by William Baylebridge )
- There are veins of gold embedded, Little Eagle McGowan
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- bo-tox, lee fones
- Music The Heart's Harp Sings, Dorothy (Alves) Holmes
- Opposite Worlds, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- A Demain, Randy Resh
- A disease......, PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Your Loving Words, Michael McParland
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