High-Water Mark

One glorious day gleams through my memory still,
Though lagging years have come and gone erewhile;
That day whereon I seemed to reconcile
My aspirations with myself, to thrill
With noblest ardor and to feel no chill
Of low-born aim nor motive, nor the vile
Persuasions of my baser self beguile
My soul from resolution pure to ill.

My soul may never mount so high again,
And never may my sluggish spirit glow
With feeling free as then from all alloy:
But yet should this be bitter truth, the pain
Is deadened when within my heart I know
That I rose once and burned with highest joy!