Poems (Young)/The House of Love

by Ella Young

THE HOUSE OF LOVE.

I built for you a house of joy,
 A dun close-walled and warm within;
Strong-fossed without, lest foe destroy
 Or creeping sorrow entrance win.

The wind that wails about the world
 Came with you through the open door—
My joy-dun into ruin hurled
 Lay desolate for evermore.

I built for you a house of dream
 Fair as the pearly light of morn;
Its pillars caught an opal gleam
 From skies where night was never born.

The wind that blows the stars to flame
 Blew through my house and left it bare:
The beauty vanished when it came,
 The columns melted into air.

The next house that I build for you
 I'll build with stars and moon-fire white:
Vaster than those the wind swept through,
 Its halls, star-paved, shall front the night.

Mayhap you'll come and wander there
 When all the winds are laid to rest,
And find its sun-bright beauty fair
 Beyond the glow in East or West.

Mayhap its radiant fire must fade
 Before the wind that wakes the dawn,
The light from Heaven's heart out-rayed
 When suns and moons are all withdrawn.

The wind that beats the stars to dust
 May sweep my star-built courts away:
Let my dun fall—if fall it must—
 Its glory lasted for a day.

I care not how I lose anew,
 Or round the wreck what winds may wail—
Since God's own dun was built for you,
 You are not houseless, though I fail.