Sonnets: XIII Constancy
Ah, Love, I know that to my love thou art,
And must be, in this life, a dream,--a name!
But be it joy or grief, or praise or blame,
I give thee all the worship of my heart.
'Tis not for Love to bid life's cares depart;
Love wings the soul for Heaven whence it came.
Such love from Petrarch's soul did Laura claim,
And Beatrice to Dante did impart.
To thee I turn,--be thou or near or far,
And whether on my love thou frown or smile,--
As, in mid-ocean, to some fairy isle
Palm-crowned; as, in the heav'ns, to eve's bright star
Whose pure white fire allures the vision, while
Myriads of paler lights unnoticed are!
And must be, in this life, a dream,--a name!
But be it joy or grief, or praise or blame,
I give thee all the worship of my heart.
'Tis not for Love to bid life's cares depart;
Love wings the soul for Heaven whence it came.
Such love from Petrarch's soul did Laura claim,
And Beatrice to Dante did impart.
To thee I turn,--be thou or near or far,
And whether on my love thou frown or smile,--
As, in mid-ocean, to some fairy isle
Palm-crowned; as, in the heav'ns, to eve's bright star
Whose pure white fire allures the vision, while
Myriads of paler lights unnoticed are!
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