Perhaps Love Does Really Exist

Perhaps love does really exist, but the beings we are surrounded by don't know how
Perhaps there is no such thing as soulmates, but if you're blessed with loving someone who respects you back, you should stick with 'em 
Perhaps the tides come in and then receed to show us what, if anything, will be left behind after some turbulence
Perhaps we shouldn't compare struggles, feet can manage socks and hands can manage mittens

30. On the Death of Rusticus -

Foul Asian coast, his life hast thou betrayed,

On thee by guilty waves his corpse was tossed.

Close in her breast his loving spouse conveyed

The sacred urn, too soon the seas were crossed,

Too soon those ashes in the earth she laid,

And seemed twice widowed of a love twice lost.

27. To Flaccus -

A MAN of adamant you surely are

To love a dame who loves stale vinegar,

A dame whose palate whelks and tripe enchant,

Who thinks bananas too extravagant,

Whose maid brings in (rare trove!) a common pot

Of spoiled sardines to eat before they rot;

Grown lowish now and not afraid to shock

She begs for flannelette to make a frock;

My dame will ask for attar, precious stuff,

" Worth " for her frocks is hardly good enough:

Fine graded pearls and emeralds I must find.

56. The Voyage -

S PENDOPHORUS must on his lord attend

And soon to Libya his way will wend.

Give him, dear Love, a wand and those soft darts

Wherewith thou woundest eager lovers' hearts.

Cuirass and shield and helm I leave to thee,

He will be safe if naked he shall be,

E'en as Parthenopaeus felt no blow

From foemen's dart while they could see his brow.

But whomsoe'er he pierces straight will die

Of love — how happy in death's agony!

O beauty bright, from Africa come home

14. On a Parasite -

Do you think that this man, whom your generous board

Has got you for friend, can true friendship afford?

It's your oysters and mullet he loves, sir, not you:

If my dinners were good, he would be my friend too.

If Thou Were Dead!: 15 -

If thou wert dead, O love, — if thou wert dead, —

How could one summer sunset dare to gleam

Above the ripples of the rosied stream?

How could one rose blush into mocking red?

If death's wreath whitened round thy dear dark head

No leaf of bay would lure my glance again:

For thou art as the fountain of my strain,

Whence buoyant waters towards the plains are led.

Alone: 13 -

On lovers loving in the silent night

The holy spirit of spotless God descends

And with their souls magnificently blends,

Till as their lips touch lo! their souls are white,

And as their eyes meet lo! those eyes are bright

With the eternal power God's spirit sends:

Far-off from home, apart from fame or friends,

They rest in God's unutterable light.

Our Self-Existence: 6 -

Through pain we reach a lonely region fair

With the immortal mountain-winds of God,

Whereunto winds a weird untravelled road,

Thrilled by the high song of the mountain-air.

The altar of our faithful love is there

On the sheer hill-side trackless and untrod;

By power of earnest endless passion shod

Our feet have climbed the rocks and glaciers bare.


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