XXXI

A brother's love, but that I chose thee out

From all the world, not by the chance of birth,

But in the risen splendour of thy worth,

Which, like the sun, put all my stars to rout.

A lover's love, but that it bred no doubt

Of love returned, no heats of flood and dearth,

But, asking nothing, found in all the earth

The consolation of a heart devout.

A votary's love, though with no pale and wild

Imaginations did I stretch the might

Of a sweet friendship and a mortal light.

Thus in my love all loves are reconciled

That purest be, and in my prayer the right

Of brother, lover, friend, and eremite.