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In Cornwall and Across the Sea

With Poems Written in Devonshire. By Douglas B. W. Sladen

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PLATONIC LOVE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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267

PLATONIC LOVE.

I.

I have not read what Plato writ of love,
But love Platonic is it not like this,
To feel thyself with all enough of bliss
If thou canst with the one companion rove,
No matter where—alone in cool alcove
Or in a crowded room—to choose to miss
A warm caress from beauty, a rich kiss
From passion's daughter rather than remove
From this one's side, to have no care but hers,
No joy complete till she has shared it too,
To be the fondest of her worshippers,
But never think or speak of love or do
Other than brother fond of brother might,
Whom tastes as well as kindred veins unite?

268

II.

I have a friend—of love we never speak,—
Love in the human meaning of the word,—
Not that our pulses are not gaily stirred
Whene'er we meet, not that we do not seek
Our company from end to end of week,
And when we part feel like the Eastern bird,
Of which old ornithologists averred
That when its mate was lost it turned its beak
Into its breast. Presence is paradise,
And absence exile—light-of-hearts like we
Know not a hell. A pearl beyond a price
Is it for us to roam beside the sea,
Or on the free moors all a summer day,
With care and every human face away.

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III.

And now, sweet friend! thou wilt be here again,
There never was a maiden whom I loved,
Whose coming back to me so strangely moved
My being as thou movest it. We twain
Are matched so deftly in our mind's domain:
In all the divers places, where we roved,
The same sights caught our fancy, and we proved
Our perfect sympathy, when we were fain
Night after night within one room to sit,
As busily we worked, though scarce we spoke
Or raised an eye, but at our note-books writ,
Till “Twelve” with its “to-bed” the stillness broke.
When two in silence can together spend
Delicious evenings, each has won a friend.