O For A Soul

O for a soul surrendered of all guile! A plain white soul with nothing on it writ, No creed of mockery to make men smile, No boast of wisdom travestied as wit; Only a clean soul where the infinite Calm of the heavens, as on some tropic isle, Should have looked down and on the face of it, Inscribed in sunlight, ``Nothing here was vile.'' --Thus to my life I argue it to--day, Thus chide my heart its too long vanity, Its lawless strength, its insolence of play, Its ancient rage of storm--tossed chivalry. And yet, God wot, should Love's wind breathe my way, My heart would rise still, a tumultuous Sea.