The Triumph of Love By Edmond Holmes |
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 | The Triumph of Love |  |
XLIII
Think not of me as one whose heaven is hell,For I am happy in my heart's distress,—
Happy beyond what love's own words can tell,
Happy beyond what happier hearts can guess.
As, when at eventide a storm enshrouds
With blackness of despair the sunset light,
The fringes of the dark disastrous clouds
Burn with a brightness which is more than bright;—
So when love's orb, by envious Fate oppressed,
Sinks into twilight gloom, its hidden flame
Breaks through the dungeon darkness of the west,
And turns the symbols of its grief and shame
To robes of glory, lovelier in love's eyes
Than the full splendour of unclouded skies.
| The Triumph of Love | |