The Illusion of Love


Beloved, you may be as all men

Only a transient

Of flickering flame set in loam of clay – I care not …since you kindle all my

With the immortal lustres of the day.

And as all men deem, dearest, you may

Only a common

Chance-winnowed by the sea-winds from the sea –The subtle murmurs of eternity.

And tho’ you are, like men or mortal race,

Only a hapless

That Death may mar and destiny efface – I care not … since unto my heart you

The very vision of God’s dwelling-place.

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