Passion has wings like an eagle
Love needs none; she is at rest--
Flood tide full--as the seagull
Drifts, the cold wave at her breast.
Love is the Lightless Ether
Passion the star-shine it lets through
Building sense-worlds beneath her
Love seeks not form, seeks not hue.
Passion has myriad senses
Love has not voice, eyes, nor ears,