There he had wandered weeping and alone.
Then wondering much, we thought to ask his name,
But Love replied: “Ah, surely ye should know!”
And as he spake, beneath his wings of flame
We saw Love’s arrows and his glittering bow,
“For you,” he cried, “the way is strewn with flowers,
You’ve found the path that I shall never find.”
Then looking up we saw Love’s eyes in ours,
And then we knew why men do call him blind.
Therefore we know that Love is much maligned,