Sorrow and Joy

By George Sterling

Sweet, as above thy written words I bend
    Thou gleamest in a victory of tears.
    I gaze, I doubt, nor dare to doubt; the years
Have blossomed all too swiftly to this end
I meet so ill prepared: bright blisses rend
    My soul that burned alone; too soon it hears
    The music born of love's transcendent fears,—
Too soon it finds the heart's Eternal Friend!

Abide thou peacefully upon the throne
My hopes upbuild thee in the white Unknown!
    Gaze heavenward—there are no skies like these!
        Thy passion bears me to a mystic land
        Wherein is naught of life except I stand
    Lord of thy sorrows and thine ecstasies.


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