I love thee as I love the holiest things,
Like perfect poetry and angels' wings,
And cleanliness and sacred motherhood,
And all things simple, sweetly pure, and good.
I love thee as I love a little child....
Or again, from 'Attainment':
When you have grasped the highest rung,
When the last hymn of praise is sung,
When all around you thousands bow,
When Fame with laurel binds your brow,
When you have reached the utmost goal
That you have set your hurrying soul....
Then you shall see the whole thing small
Beside the one gift worth it all:
The one good thing from pole to pole
Is called Simplicity of Soul.
All which is of a piece with the poem to his mother:
Can I make my feeble art
Show the burning of my heart?...
Every day and every hour
I have battened on your power,
While you taught of life the whole;
You my best beloved and nighest,
You who ever claimed the highest
Was the one and only goal....
When the sands of life seemed sliding
You were helping, you were guiding—
Claimed for me the glorious rôle:
You my loved one and no other,
You my only lovely Mother,
You the pilot of my soul;
