Here, making count, at every step I see
Something in her, like to a hidden thought
Within my life, that long time I had sought,
But never found till her soul spoke to me.
And if she said a thousand times, “I did
Not call thee, thou cam'st seeking; not my voice
Was it thou heard'st; thy love was not my choice!”
I should straightway reply, “That of thee hid,
Even from thyself, lest it should startle thee,
Hath called me, made me slave and king in one;
And when the mists of Time shall rise, and we
Stand forth, it shall be said, Since Time begun
Ye two were called as one from that high hill,
Where the creating Master hath His will.”