A heavy heart, Belovèd, have I borne 
From year to year until I saw thy face, 
And sorrow after sorrow took the place 
Of all those natural joys as lightly worn 
As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn 
By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace 
Were changed to long despairs, till God's own grace 
Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn 
My heavy heart. Than thou didst bid me bring 
And let it drop adown thy calmly great 
Deep being! Fast it sinketh, as a thing 
Which its own nature doth precipitate, 
While thine doth close above it, mediating 
Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate.