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THE love a life can showBelow,Is but a filament, I know,Of that diviner thingThat faints upon the faceOf noonAnd smites the tinder inThe sun,And hinders Gabriel's wing.
'Tis this in music hintsAnd sways,And far abroad onSummer daysDistills uncertain pain.'Tis this enamors inThe East,And tints the transit inThe WestWith harrowing iodine.'Tis this invites, appalls,Endows,Flits, glimmers, proves,Dissolves,Returns, suggests, convicts,Enchants—Then flings inParadise!
