It is not she.
[Footnote: _Sister Songs_.]

We have called the poet an egotist, and surely, his attitude toward the
blind rout who have had no glimpse of the heavenly vision, is one of
contemptuous superiority. But like the priest in the temple, all his
arrogance vanishes when he ceases to harangue the congregation, and goes
into the secret place to worship. And toward anyone who sincerely seeks
the revelation, no matter how feeble his powers may be, the poet's
attitude is one of tenderest sympathy and comradeship. Alice Gary
pleads,

Hear me tell
How much my will transcends my feeble powers,
As one with blind eyes feeling out in flowers
Their tender hues.
[Footnote: _To the Spirit of Song_.]

And there is not a poet in the last century of such prominence that he
does not reverence such a confession, [Footnote: Some poems showing the
similarity in such an attitude of great and small alike, follow:
_Epistle to Charles C. Clarke_, Keats; _The Soul's Expression_, Mrs.
Browning; _Memorial Verses to Wm. B. Scott_, Swinburne; _Sister Songs_,
_Proemion to Love in Dian's Lap_, _A Judgment in Heaven_, Francis
Thompson; _Urania_, Matthew Arnold; _There Have Been Vast Displays of
Critic Wit_, Alexander Smith; _Invita Minerva_ and _L'Envoi to the
Muse_, J. R. Lowell; _The Voiceless_, O. W. Holmes; _Fata Morgana_, and
_Epimetheus, or the Poet's Afterthought_, Longfellow; _L'Envoi_,
Kipling; _The Apology_, and _Gleam on Me, Fair Ideal_, Lewis Morris;
_Dedication to Austin Dobson_, E. Gosse; _A Country Nosegay_, and