All paths of life its happy feet have trod:
Love dons the wooden shoe to moil and plod,
It crowns Madonna with the aureole,
By every hovel takes its golden toll,
And walks the royal court in velvet shod.
Two lovers be who drank pain to the lees
Yet o’er all lovers else exalted are;
Twin luminaries in the heaven, these,
In Love’s bright galaxy a double star:
And when Love whispers softly—“Héloïse!”