III
(He Loves)
"Will you let any moment dip its wing
Into your heart and find no love of me
To tint with deathless Dream"—he said—"and Spring,
Its flight to the dim bourne of memory?
Will you have any grief that can forget
How grief should find forgetfulness in love?
And since your soul in my soul's zone is set
Will it sometimes ask other spheres to rove
Where touch and voice of me shall not be met?
Ah no! in all the underdeeps of Death
Or overheights of Life it still shall be
At tryst with mine thro moan or ecstasy.
In all!" ... Yet ere a year he'll draw no breath
But is another's!—Will God let it be?