LI. SONG
I
To-day thou hast the wings, O love of mine,
And over the sea's grey
Thou canst flee quite away
Leaving my lyre to weep, my soul to pine.
II
Young art thou, and thou hast the wondrous wings
Of girlhood, and the air
Of summer finds thee fair
And round about thee all the wildwood sings.
III
Oh, what can hold thee? Can I stay thy flight?
Oh love alone can hold
Thy young plumes fleet and bold
And force thy wandering wild feet to alight.
IV
I have no other power,—yea, nought but this;
Love,—love, and love alone,
To draw thee from thy throne;—
Love in my eyes, and on my lips love's kiss.
