Classic Poem

" Take this, a kiss " — Such words fell on mine ear,
As through the green gloom of a lawny glade,
For Love's high feast arrayed
In blood-red raiment, Love himself drew near.
With motion, voice and look divinely blent,
Like one sweet sound of many an instrument,
He came and breathed on me, then smiled and drew
From a small casket stored with balmy bliss
Such drops of honey-dew,
As his mouth, beelike, sips
From the warm, flower-soft lips
Of all who ever kissed beneath the moon; —
Saying as he gave the boon,
" Take this, a kiss. "

" Drink here, a tear: Love needs the seasoning brine. "
Clad in grey stole with pansies dark inwrought,
Feeding his speechless thought,
Love stood and called me to his wayside shrine,
Where, grey with grief, many a late-answered Prayer
Knelt on her knee-worn sanctuary stair,
While in a cup, with rosemary wreathed and rue,
He, priestlike, to their lips and mine brought near
The sacramental dew,
Drawn from the darkling deep
Into which angels weep.
Then sighing, " Take this, my second sacrament, "
He murmured, as he went,
" Drink here, a tear. "

" Kisses and tears! What Love gives, Love must keep. "
Love spake and came to Life's death-darkened house,
Black-robed, and round his brows
Drooped lotus-flowers and poppies drenched in sleep.
" Give me an alms, " he cried, " our house is poor,
And she thou lov'st now dwells within our door.
'Twas I who brought her, I who took her hence,
Sealing her thine twice for Time's deathless years
In my twin sacraments. "
Life's bankrupt, yet Love's heir,
I knelt in darkness there,
And saying, " Take all I have for drink or meat, "
Rained on Love's naked feet
Kisses and tears.