Doubt and Worship

By George Sterling

To search thy heart! to know thine every thought!
    Craig, art thou yearning for me, that I find
    Thy voice alone upon the unresting wind.
And, subtly in departing beauty caught.
Hints of thy purer loveliness untaught
    In Love's high lore, to Love's betrayal blind,
    Yet dare I serve him, he who holds enshrined
All tears and raptures that my heart hath sought.

O Sweet! thou rose whose thorn is ecstasy!
The garden of the world Is fair with thee,
    Of countless worlds who wast the rose supreme
        Ere yet the fleeting bubble of our own
        With breath of dark Infinity was blown—
Who shall be flower of Eden and its dream!

San Francisco.

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