Michael Villiers, Idealist And Other Poems. By E. H. Hickey |
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IN WHAT HIGH BLISS ABIDETH LOVE? |
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 | Michael Villiers, Idealist |  |
132
IN WHAT HIGH BLISS ABIDETH LOVE?
In what high bliss abideth Love?
Lives he in golden sunshine fair,
Flooding the heart of broad blue air,
Green grass beneath his feet, above
His head the trees that ever bear
Blossom and fruit and leafage rare?
In such high bliss abideth Love?
Lives he in golden sunshine fair,
Flooding the heart of broad blue air,
Green grass beneath his feet, above
His head the trees that ever bear
Blossom and fruit and leafage rare?
In such high bliss abideth Love?
In what deep pain abideth Love?
Sits he in dreary darkness where
The meeting hands of grief and care
Draw curtains close that will not move;
'Mid bitter sighs and cryings there
Of all earth's passion and despair?
In such deep pain abideth Love?
Sits he in dreary darkness where
The meeting hands of grief and care
Draw curtains close that will not move;
'Mid bitter sighs and cryings there
Of all earth's passion and despair?
In such deep pain abideth Love?
133
High bliss, deep pain, alike, for Love
Are dwelling-place, and he being there
Dark groweth bright, and fair thrice fair:
He brings the gifts that best behove;
He teacheth strength to do and bear,
And weakness how in grace to fare;
For everywhere abideth Love.
Are dwelling-place, and he being there
Dark groweth bright, and fair thrice fair:
He brings the gifts that best behove;
He teacheth strength to do and bear,
And weakness how in grace to fare;
For everywhere abideth Love.
| Michael Villiers, Idealist | |