Classic Poem

All that was mine—I have loved it, and loved it both true and well.
Quick to its call I uprose, as the heart to the sacring-bell.
Never so long ago, nor aught that I loved as a child,
And lost, but I love it still and would seek it unreconciled.
Never so far past by, that broken its image appears,
Blent with dissolving visions or dim in the rush of the years!
Never so cast away, flung out on the world's rough wake,
But only the more would I love it—at need would go down for its sake.

All that was mine—I have loved it. Had greater than this been mine,
I know not how greater my love—how mounting nearer divine.
All that was mine in the world—its Makers my witness be!
I loved it, and love it still, as I leave it and pass unto Thee.
If more and greater than this be my share, in some Heaven above,
The soul that was mine will live on, and measure its life by its love.