To One on her Birthday

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How shall I choose to wish you happinessOn this day or another? Your life's wayHas passed already far beyond our guess,Who only watch and wait for you and pray.Our love is but the creature of man's clay,And you have chosen grief for your soul's bliss.How shall I offer you mere joy to-day,Nor seem for greater wealth to bring you less?You have a world to win by faith sublime.You have a heart to break for human woe.That which you seek was never seen in Time.That you shall find I dare not seek to know.Yet will I wish you this, for your new birth,You still may love: the sweetest thing on Earth.

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt