08.07.2007, 10:18
To Stella
I
I see thee go about thy household ways,
And nothing count too irksome or too mean,
Which being done had earned another's praise,
Or being left, some other's grief had been,
Or being spoken, had laid balm between
The breath of slander and the wounded part,
Or being thought, had caused the judgment lean
Less to the brain and more unto the heart.
And so from room to room I see thee move,
And all the house to fill with quietness,
That all who see thee must perforce thee love,
That all who hear thee must perforce thee bless.
Like some bright angel, doomed to penance here
For some slight fault, so dost thou, love, appear.
I
I see thee go about thy household ways,
And nothing count too irksome or too mean,
Which being done had earned another's praise,
Or being left, some other's grief had been,
Or being spoken, had laid balm between
The breath of slander and the wounded part,
Or being thought, had caused the judgment lean
Less to the brain and more unto the heart.
And so from room to room I see thee move,
And all the house to fill with quietness,
That all who see thee must perforce thee love,
That all who hear thee must perforce thee bless.
Like some bright angel, doomed to penance here
For some slight fault, so dost thou, love, appear.