 | The Poetical Works of John Payne |  |
O Love, that never pardoneth,
O Love, more pitiless than Death!
His strife is vain that would express
Thy sweets without thy bitterness.
O Love, more pitiless than Death!
His strife is vain that would express
Thy sweets without thy bitterness.
His toil is vain, for sooth it is
One winneth Love through Death his kiss;
A man shall never know Love's land
Until Death take him by the hand.
One winneth Love through Death his kiss;
A man shall never know Love's land
Until Death take him by the hand.
O bitter Love! this is indeed
The evil unto life decreed,
That men shall seek thee far and nigh
And finding thee, shall surely die.
The evil unto life decreed,
That men shall seek thee far and nigh
And finding thee, shall surely die.
| The Poetical Works of John Payne | |