Which, if it were the soul and loved
Some kindred soul in this world of love-waste,
Would laugh at every selfish catechism
Of worldly wisdom and its creed
And tremble to the fate which love revealed,
Flushed at its glimpse of Paradise, delirious
That life was not all craft and greed
But underneath its shallows half-concealed
Lay passion grand, transfiguring, imperious!