 | The Way of the Winepress |  |
41
LOVE AND LOVE.
WE were lovers, indeed, in our day; we loved because we must,Because of the heat in our hearts, that soared to the skies like a spire
And lifted our lives from the swamp, our souls from the mist and the mire.
For Love and the world well lost we lived. You may style it lust;
But the lusts of the soul and the sense combine in a birth august,
To gender a joy divine, a flame like a flower of fire,
That dries up the dross of the flesh with the blaze of its bright desire.
But you, like the swine in the slough you love, like the dogs in the dust.
You, what can you do for Love, who know not what 'tis to give,
Who know not what 'tis to die, who know not what 'tis to live?
Whilst youth in our hearts was hot, we poured out our lives like wine
At the altars of Love and Spring; and now that the fiery flood
No longer beats in our brain, no longer boils in our blood,
The love, that we lit with sense, burns bright at the spirit's shrine.
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