Love
by George William Russell
Ere I lose myself in the vastness and drowse myself
with the peace,
While I gaze on the light and the beauty afar from
the dim homes of men,
May I still feel the heart-pang and pity, love-ties
that I would not release;
May the voices of sorrow appealing call me back to
their succour again.
Ere I storm with the tempest of power the thrones
and dominions of old,
Ere the ancient enchantment allure me to roam
through the star-misty skies,
I would go forth as one who has reaped well what
harvest the earth may unfold;
May my heart be o’erbrimmed with compassion; on my
brow be the crown of the wise.
I would go as the dove from the ark sent forth with
wishes and prayers
To return with the paradise blossoms that bloom in
the Eden of light:
When the deep star-chant of the seraphs I hear in
the mystical airs,
May I capture one tone of their joy for the sad ones
discrowned in the night.
Not alone, not alone would I go to my rest in the
heart of the love:
Were I tranced in the innermost beauty, the flame of
its tenderest breath,
I would still hear the cry of the fallen recalling
me back from above,
To go down to the side of the people who weep in the
shadow of death.
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