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1842–1911

ODYLE.

Henry Abbey

We know that they are often near Of whom we think, of whom we talk, Though we have missed them many a year, And lost them from our daily walk.

Some strange clairvoyance dwells in all, And webs the souls of human kind. I would that I could learn its thrall, And know the power of mind on mind.

I then might quickly use the sense, To find where one I worship dwells, If in the city, or if thence Among the breeze-rung lily bells.

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ODYLE. · Henry Abbey · Poetry Cove