LOVE AND SONG
LOVE sayeth: Sing of me!What else is worth a song?I had refrainedLest I should do Love wrong."Clean hands, and a pure heart,"I prayed, "and I will sing:"But all I gainedBrought to my word no wing.Stars, sunshine, seas and skies,Earth's graves, the holy hills,Were all in vain;No breath the dumb pipe fills.I dreamed of splendid praise,And Beauty watching byGray shores of Pain:My song turned to a sigh.I saw in virgin eyesThe mother warmth that makesThe dead earth quickIn ways no Spring awakes.No song. In vain to sightLife's clear arch heavenward sprang.Heart still, or sick!—I loved! Ah, then I sang!
LOVE sayeth: Sing of me!What else is worth a song?I had refrainedLest I should do Love wrong."Clean hands, and a pure heart,"I prayed, "and I will sing:"But all I gainedBrought to my word no wing.Stars, sunshine, seas and skies,Earth's graves, the holy hills,Were all in vain;No breath the dumb pipe fills.I dreamed of splendid praise,And Beauty watching byGray shores of Pain:My song turned to a sigh.I saw in virgin eyesThe mother warmth that makesThe dead earth quickIn ways no Spring awakes.No song. In vain to sightLife's clear arch heavenward sprang.Heart still, or sick!—I loved! Ah, then I sang!
LOVE sayeth: Sing of me!What else is worth a song?I had refrainedLest I should do Love wrong.
LOVE sayeth: Sing of me!
What else is worth a song?
I had refrained
Lest I should do Love wrong.
"Clean hands, and a pure heart,"I prayed, "and I will sing:"But all I gainedBrought to my word no wing.
"Clean hands, and a pure heart,"
I prayed, "and I will sing:"
But all I gained
Brought to my word no wing.
Stars, sunshine, seas and skies,Earth's graves, the holy hills,Were all in vain;No breath the dumb pipe fills.
Stars, sunshine, seas and skies,
Earth's graves, the holy hills,
Were all in vain;
No breath the dumb pipe fills.
I dreamed of splendid praise,And Beauty watching byGray shores of Pain:My song turned to a sigh.
I dreamed of splendid praise,
And Beauty watching by
Gray shores of Pain:
My song turned to a sigh.
I saw in virgin eyesThe mother warmth that makesThe dead earth quickIn ways no Spring awakes.
I saw in virgin eyes
The mother warmth that makes
The dead earth quick
In ways no Spring awakes.
No song. In vain to sightLife's clear arch heavenward sprang.Heart still, or sick!—I loved! Ah, then I sang!
No song. In vain to sight
Life's clear arch heavenward sprang.
Heart still, or sick!
—I loved! Ah, then I sang!