Classic Poem

I know that yet again my love shall rise
And spurn the timid shadows and the gloom,
Bursting the bars of the unavailing tomb
And seeking birdlike the eternal skies.
Then shall I know the truth of each surmise,—
And every faint remotest intuition
Shall shine before me in an open vision.
When the close roof of life no more denies.

Beyond the extreme blue haze of sunset hills
There lies a recompence for every soul,—
A recompence for even extremest ills:—
Beyond those mountain-tops my Lady stole,
And from behind those barriers, when she wills,
She shall appear,—to make the enfeebled whole.