The little cares that fretted me, I lost them yesterday Among the fields above the sea, Among the winds at play.

In your patience ye are strong.

For frequent tears have run; The colours from my life.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.

XI I sang his name instead of song; Over and over I sang his name: Backward and forward I sang it along, With my sweetest notes, it was still the same! I sang it low, that the slave-girls near Might never guess, from what they could hear, That all the song was a name.

Large, musing eyes, neither joyous nor sorry.

But the child's sob curses deeper in the silence than the strong man in his wrath!