Where Dwells the Soul of My Love (# 39).
David N. Childs
Poem by James Thomson

What precious thing are you making fast In all these silken lines?
And where and to whom will it go at last? Such subtle knots and twines!
I am tying up all my life in this, With all its hopes and fears,
With all its anguish and all its bliss. And its hours as heavy as years.
I am going to send it afar, afar, To I know not where above;
To that sphere beyond the highest star Where dwells the soul of my Love.
But in vain, in vain, would I make it fast With countless subtle twines;
For ever its fire breaks out at last, And shrivels all the lines.