The Triumph of Love By Edmond Holmes |
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 | The Triumph of Love |  |
LIX
There is a well at life's extremest verge,—A bitter well in which all sorrows blend:
Below, love's ocean rolls its restless surge;
Above, the ramparts of the world ascend.
Thence glide the waves, unseen by mortal eyes,
The rhythmic waves, unheard by mortal ears,
Whose flashes make the splendour of the skies,
Whose murmurs make the music of the spheres.
And whoso climbs to where that fountain springs,
And drinks a deep draught of its bitter brine,
Shall lose thenceforth all care of earthly things,
And burn for ever with a thirst divine,—
A quenchless thirst, a passionate desire,
A soul-consuming, soul-expanding fire.
| The Triumph of Love | |