Classic Poem

Of old I held the grandest simplest thing
Was the sweet human love, and still I hold
Deep in my heart the faith I held of old,
But added light the changing seasons bring.
The Force that stooped from heaven a Christ to mould
Was the strange Mother-power to which we cling
As children,—Love that broods with dovelike wing
O'er all the sorrowing earth it would enfold.

The mystic dream from youth's swift gaze withheld
May yet be fragrant at the very heart
Of this our universe, the crown of Art,
And the most sacred tenderest fact of all:
The fact that God through woman's womb expelled
The poison there induced through woman's fall.