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The Confirmation

Yes, yours, my love, is the right human face.

I in my mind had waited for this long,

Seeing the false and searching for the true,

Then found you as a traveller finds a

Of welcome suddenly amid the

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

That makes the whole world seem 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.

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Edwin Muir

Edwin Muir (15 May 1887 – 3 January 1959) was a Scottish poet, novelist and translator. Born on a farm in Deerness, a parish of Orkney, Scotland…
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