As the heart hopes by Lucy Maud Montgomery

It is a year dear one, since you afarWent out beyond my yearning mortal sight­A wondrous year! perchance in many a starYou have sojourned, or basked within the lightOf mightier suns; it may be you have trodThe glittering pathways of the Pleiades,And through the Milky Way's white mysteriesHave walked at will, fire-shod. You may have gazed in the immortal eyesOf prophets and of martyrs; talked with seersLearned in all the lore of Paradise,The infinite wisdom of eternal years;To you the Sons of Morning may have sung,The impassioned strophes of their matin hymn,For you the choirs of the seraphimTheir harpings wild out-flung. But still I think at eve you come to meFor old, delightsome speech of eye and lip,Deeming our mutual converse thus to beFairer than archangelic comradeship;Dearer our close communings fondly givenThan all the rainbow dreams a spirit knows,Sweeter my gathered violets than the roseUpon the hills of heaven. Can any exquisite, unearthly morn,Silverly breaking o'er a starry plain,Give to your soul the poignant pleasure bornOf virgin moon and sunset's lustrous stainWhen we together watch them ? Oh, apartA hundred universes you may roam,But still I know­I know­your only homeIs here within my heart!