LOVE'S LOVERS

Some ladies love the jewels in Love's zone

And gold-tipped darts he hath for painless play

In idle scornful hours he flings away;

And some that listen to his lure's soft tone

Do love to deem the silver praise their own;

Some prize his blindfold sight; and there be they

Who kissed his wings which brought him yesterday

And thank his wings to-day that he is flown.

My lady only loves the heart of Love:

Therefore Love's heart, my lady, hath for thee

His bower of unimagined flower and tree:

There kneels he now, and all-anhungered of

Thine eyes grey-lit in shadowing hair above,

Seals with thy mouth his immortality.