XIV

There needs must be misunderstandings, dear;

For love is more than the much-written word,—

Transcends it, as the home-flight of a bird

Is distanced by the sun. Let fall the fear;

Let Joy and constant Certainty appear

Armed with angelic swords of flame that gird

Their thighs; for though the day with rain is blurred,

Hark to the singing legions of the year!

Always I find gain in lamented loss;

Some treasure in the beaten path I tread;

And that alone survives which bears a cross

Branded by some hot trial that is dead.

Last night as I was weeping someone cried:

“Love cannot live save love be crucified!”