 | The Way of the Winepress |  |
ENTBEHREN SOLLST DU.
“THOU shalt forswear; forswear thou shalt fore'er!”So knells the burden of this life of ours:
No pause of love and peace, no lightsome hours,
To break our toil! — Yet, why should we forswear,
We, in the service of the True, the Fair,
That still have faced the fire, the storm, the showers?
Shall we in all that we have wrought, the flowers,
The beauty we've begotten, have no share?
Nay, soul, I know thee: in the appointed way
Still wilt thou plod, whatever longings rend
Thy core and lure thy feet to turn away
From the rough ruts into the meads of May:
Whatever angels from Love's heavens descend
To tempt, thou wilt forswear unto the end.
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