The Triumph of Love By Edmond Holmes |
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 | The Triumph of Love |  |
LVII
I think the world will ne'er be wide enoughFor the free flight of love's aspiring wings;
I think that heaven and earth are but the stuff
Whence love doth weave his dreams of lovelier things;
I think that shining star and burning sun
Are motes that wander in love's stream of light;
That all would perish, if love's goal were won,
Their fire extinct, in pathless gulfs of night.
O my lost love! O beauty past desire!
O prize that heart may never hope to gain!
Is it not well that still, from fire to fire,
From deep to deep, love seeks thee,—but in vain?
Is it not well that love should woo thee so,
And through life's failure keep life's torch aglow?
| The Triumph of Love | |