Love's Sorrow
When fair love's fragrant world first opens out before us,
When first its sweet winds sing and golden stars shine o'er us,
Its flowers are so divine
We never never think of what shall follow after:
We only hear the wind's caressing lovely laughter;
We see no white crests on the far sea-line.
Then when the dark days come, and all the flowers are faded,
And the green thickets, dense with leafage once, invaded
By the bleak keen wind's breath,
We have the golden thought of summer days to cling to,
And love's old image deep within the heart to sing to,
Hurling song's utterance in the teeth of death.
Yes. Love brings endless pain,—an infinite sword-anguish.
Yet better far to love than through dull life to languish
Devoid of love and pain.
So, sweet, though love for thee has brought me pain exceeding
Yet from my heart's true depths, though love therein lies bleeding,
I cry, “Love's sorrow is immortal gain.”
When first its sweet winds sing and golden stars shine o'er us,
Its flowers are so divine
We never never think of what shall follow after:
We only hear the wind's caressing lovely laughter;
We see no white crests on the far sea-line.
Then when the dark days come, and all the flowers are faded,
And the green thickets, dense with leafage once, invaded
By the bleak keen wind's breath,
We have the golden thought of summer days to cling to,
And love's old image deep within the heart to sing to,
Hurling song's utterance in the teeth of death.
Yes. Love brings endless pain,—an infinite sword-anguish.
Yet better far to love than through dull life to languish
Devoid of love and pain.
So, sweet, though love for thee has brought me pain exceeding
Yet from my heart's true depths, though love therein lies bleeding,
I cry, “Love's sorrow is immortal gain.”
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