Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful
And worthy of acceptation.
Fire is bright,
Let temple burn, or flax; an equal
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:
And love is fire.
And when I say at needI love thee…mark!…I love thee—in thy sightI stand transfigured, glorified aright,
With conscience of the new rays that
Out of my face toward thine.
There's nothing
In love, when love the lowest: meanest
Who love God,
God accepts while loving so.
And what I feel, across the inferior
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and
How that great work of Love enhances Nature's.
