LOVE
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ove is a breach in the walls, a broken gate,Where that comes in that shall not go again ;Love sells the proud heart’s citadel to Fate.They have known shame, who love unloved. Even thenWhen two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking,And agony’s forgot, and hushed the cryingOf credulous hearts, in heaven—such are but takingTheir own poor dreams within their arms, and lyingEach in his lonely night, each with a ghost.Some share that night. But they know, love growscolder,Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most.Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder,But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss.All this is love ; and all love is but this. 42
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