Yes, yours, my love, is the right human face.
In my mind I had waited for this long,
Seeing the false and searching for the true,
Then found you as a traveler finds a place of welcome
suddenly amid the wrong valleys and rocks and twisting roads.
But you, what shall I call you?
A fountain in a waste,
A well of water in a country dry,
Or anything that’s honest and good,
An eye that makes the whole world bright.
Your open heart, simple with giving, gives the primal deed,
The first good world, the blossom, the blowing seed,
The hearth, the steadfast land, the wandering sea.
Not beautiful or rare in every part.
But like yourself, as they were meant to be.