A Retrospect

I, trusting that the truly sweet
  Would still be sweetly found the true,
  Sang, darkling, taught by heavenly heat,
  Songs which were wiser than I knew.
  To the unintelligible dream
  That melted like a gliding star,
  I said: ‘We part to meet, fair Gleam!
  You are eternal, for you are.’
  To Love's strange riddle, fiery writ
  In flesh and spirit of all create,
  ‘Mocker,’ I said, ‘of mortal wit,
  Me you shall not mock. I can wait.’