Here you will find thePoemBeautyof poet Jones Very
I gazed upon thy face--and beating life, Once stilled its sleepless pulses in my breast And every thought whose being was a strife Each in its silent chamber sank to rest; I was not, save it were a thought of thee, The world was but a spot where thou hadst trod, From every star thy glance seemed fix on me, Almost I loved thee better than my God. And still I gaze--but `tis a holier thought Than that in which my spirit lived before, Each star a purer ray of love has caught, Earth wears a lovelier robe than then it wore, And every lamp that burns around thy shrine I fed with fire whose fountain is Divine.
