Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/196



, when I look into your eyes
 * My hurts are healed, my heart grows whole;
 * The barren places in my soul,

Like waste lands under April skies, Break into flower beneath your eyes.

Ah, life grows lovely where you are;
 * Only to think of you gives light
 * To my dark heart, within whose night

Your image, though you bide afar, Glows like a lake-reflected star.