The Triumph of Love By Edmond Holmes |
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 | The Triumph of Love |  |
XV
Hadst thou been mine, my bride, my very own;Had my fond heart been free to work its will,
To love thee only, live for thee alone,
Exhaust its fount of love, yet love thee still;—
Had it been mine to kiss thy lips, to toy
With the coiled tresses of thy burnished hair,
To compass thee with pride and hope and joy,
Shielding thy life from every doubt and care;—
And had thy heart, sick with satiety
Of such a love, at last begun to pine
For change, for coldness, for inconstancy,
For aught but this too lavish love of mine,—
I wonder would thy love's last dying breath
Have touched my passion with the frost of death.
| The Triumph of Love | |