From: The Dial, Vol. III, No. III (Jan. 1843)
Author:
Published: E. P. Peabody 1843 Boston
ALL the eyes I ever knew It wins its way into my soul, In earnest eyes I chiefly live, And now to see all that I love,THE BROOK.
In this my strange life-dream,
Hazle, grey, and deepest blue,
Are mingled in this stream.
Awakes each hidden feeling,
Gives me a rapture beyond control,
High love fills all my being.
All words to me are nought,
For me they neither take nor give,
In the eye the soul is caught.
And have gazed at many an hour,
Blended together,—has heaven above
A greater joy in store?
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