VIII

Beloved! are we not wanderers on a road

Unknown, that grope their way among the rocks

Together?— Yes, together; for these shocks

Our hearts have borne and given, part not, goad

Unto no hatred. Though I be your load

Of care and you my anguish, something locks

Our hands, my brother: Destiny, that mocks

Man's thinkings, and here finds a new strange mode

Of welding chance-divided loves, a link

That's more than human, that is half divine,

Since, beggared of you, still I hold you mine

Above all bonds. So love me well. We'll drink

Of all pure streams together, dear, and break

These rocks to sand for one another's sake.