To Love on Feeling Its Approach
By Helen Hoyt
(In “The Masses.”)
Love is a burden, a chain,
Love is a trammel and tie;
Love is disquiet and pain
That slowly go by.
O why should I bind my heart
And bind my sight?
Love is only a part
Of all delight.
Let me have room for the rest,—
To find and explore!
Love is greatest and best?
But love closes the door.
And closes us off so long from the ways
And concernments of men;
And owns us, and hinders our days.
O love, come not again!
I have walked with you all my mile,
Now let me be free, be free!
O now a little while
Love, come not back to me!