Of Love Immortal and Undying

What is this flame that doth consume my breast,

And sets my wretched soul upon a rack?

'Tis Love, that tyrant clad in radiant vest,

Who grants no quarter, and who giveth nought back.

He cometh not with sword, nor shield, nor spear,

Yet doth he lay the mightiest spirit low;

He whispereth soft, and lo, the heart doth hear,

And boweth down before his golden bow.

O, speak not to me of the rose's bloom,

Nor of the lily's grace at break of morn,

For she who dwelleth in my heart's own room

Doth shame each blossom, every petal worn.

Her eyes are lamps that light the darkened sky,

Her voice a lute string touched by angels' hands;

When she doth pass, the very winds draw nigh

To kiss the earth whereon her beauty stands.

Hath not the sun shone brighter since thy face

Did first appear before mine longing gaze?

Methought all heaven stooped to grant thee grace,

And clothed thee well in Nature's softest rays.

The stars themselves do lean from out their sphere

To marvel at the wonder thou dost make;

And moon, that chaste and silver wanderer dear,

Doth veil her face for envy of thy sake.

I have traversed full many a weary mile,

Through briar and fen and forest dark with dread,

Yet nowhere found I rest, nor peace, nor smile,

Till thy sweet countenance my sorrow fled.

What dungeon is so deep it could confine

The soul that loves thee with so fierce a will?

No wall so thick, no chain so strong, but mine

Devotion breaketh through it, seeking still.

Dost thou not know how Time, that thievish knave,

Doth steal the bloom from off the fairest cheek?

He robs the king and lays him in the grave,

And maketh strong men feeble, wise men weak.

Yet Love, that hath no master and no end,

Doth mock old Time and all his rusty scythe;

For hearts that truly join and truly blend

Shall bloom past death, eternally alive.

Shouldst thou ever turn thy gaze from me,

And bid mine poor and humble heart farewell,

Then I shall be as bark upon the sea,

Cast loose and rudderless in tidal swell.

Yet shall I love thee still when thou art gone,

As rivers love the ocean though they part;

As dawn doth love the dark it travels on,

So doth thy name abide within my heart.

Then let us pledge, beneath this canopy

Of stars that burn like torches in the night,

That neither storm nor long adversity

Shall quench the steady lantern of our light.

For Love is not a season's fleeting flower,

Nor candle snuffed by any passing breeze;

'Tis forged of iron, tempered by each hour,

And grows more resolute through such as these.

So whilst there breathe in me the breath of life,

And whilst mine eyes may read the written sky,

I shall defy all sorrow, grief, and strife,

And love thee well — and will not say goodbye.

For love immortal hath no final page;

It burneth on, the envy of each age.