Holy of holies Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas] |
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5
I.
[What though the glow of love in me be past]
What though the glow of love in me be past,And my full sacrifice of thee complete,
The tears all wept, the heart-aches borne, yet, sweet,
Be thou my friend while life and pain shall last.
Am I not proud? I would not bid thee cast
Thine eyes so low that they with mine may meet,
Nor yet can crouch with lovers at thy feet,
Nor wear thy pity warm against the blast.
I bid thee but be noble as thou art,
That I may have one friend to honour left
Amid the wreck and ravage of my hopes,
That so the burning scorn that eats my heart
May not consume me quite, but through a cleft
One saviour star shine out of heaven that opes.
July, 25th 1885.
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