De Amore
 
Shall one be sorrowful because of love,
   Which hath no earthly crown,
   Which lives and dies, unknown?
Because no words of his shall ever move
   Her maiden heart to own
   Him lord and destined master of her own;
Is Love so weak a thing as this,
   Who can not lie awake,
   Solely for his own sake,
For lack of the dear hands to hold, the lips to kiss,
      A mere heart-ache?
 
Nay, though love’s victories be great and sweet,
   Nor vain and foolish toys,
   His crowned, earthly joys,
Is there no comfort then in love’s defeat?
   Because he shall defer,
   For some short span of years all part in her,
   Submitting to forego
   The certain peace which happier lovers know;
Because he shall be utterly disowned,
   Nor length of service bring
   Her least awakening:
Foiled, frustrate and alone, misunderstood discrowned,
      Is Love less King?
 
Grows not the world to him a fairer place,
   How far soever his days
   Pass from his lady’s ways,
From mere encounter with her golden face?
   Though all his sighing be vain,
   Shall he be heavy-hearted and complain?
Is she not still a star,
Deeply to be desired, worshipped afar,
   A beacon-light to aid
   From bitter-sweet delights, Love’s masquerade?
Though he lose many things,
   Though much he miss:
The heart upon his heart, the hand that clings,
   The memorable first kiss;
Love that is love at all,
Needs not an earthly coronal;
Love is himself his own exceeding great reward,
      A mighty lord!
 
Lord over life and all the ways of breath,
   Mighty and strong to save
   From the devouring grave;
Yea, whose dominion doth out-tyrant death,
   Thou who art life and death in one,
   The night, the sun;
Who art, when all things seem:
   Foiled, frustrate and forlorn, rejected of to-day
   Go with me all my way,
And let me not blaspheme.


Webpage © 2002 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (lane@elcore.net)
http://poetry.elcore.net/CatholicPoets/Dowson/Dowson47.html
Created November 13, 2002; not revised.