Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/14

 Ah love, high love, she said and sighed, She said, the Poet's love! A star upon a turbid tide, Reflected from above. A marvel here, a glory there, But clouds will intervene, And garish earthly noon outglare The purity serene.

thee joy! O worthy word! Congratulate—A courtier fine, Transacts, politely shuffling by, The civil ceremonial lie, Which, quickly spoken, barely heard, Can never hope, nor e'en design To give thee joy!

I give thee joy! O faithful word! When heart with heart, and mind with mind Shake-hands; and eyes in outward sign Of inward vision, rest in thine; And feelings simply, truly stirred, Emphatic utterance seek to find, And give thee joy!