Classic Poem

Of late this was the loftiest word I knew
To tell my worship of your body's grace,
Your eyes where love and laughter interlace
And when the gorgeous mind comes flashing through; —
My worship when the soul's transcendent hue,
Through irised windows, turns your lovelier face
Shrine-like into the Godhead's dwelling place: —
" Next to my love for God is mine for you. "

Thus yesterday; but now, since your white hand
Has led me upward to the promised land
Of this world's highest heaven, from this world's hell,
Through ways more dazzling than my sight may stand, —
Dearest, I love you more than prayer can tell, —
He were a saint who loved his God so well.