VI. LOVE'S POWER. LIFE had no God-light-earth no glory till My senses of the weight of clay were purged, VII. LOVE'S ANGELHOOD. I NEVER felt my angelhood till thou, And all its strength of pinion until now. Thou'st taught it, like a new-fledged bird to soar Beyond the realm of storm, and sleet, and snow; Sweeping the worlds of high imagining, VIII. LOVE'S CONSTANCY. WHILOM I wept, but they were tears of woe- Must they thus clasped revolve through Love's eternity. IX. LOVE'S COLOR. I CAN nor tell nor sing the bliss of loving, It is a joy to think of-not to speak, Words, symbols, lyres, seraphic trumpets are too weak To utter its divinity—so proving That silence is its best interpreter. Love never did gain strength through speech or ear; If found loquacious, it is plumed for roving, Or lodged in bosoms little worth its moving. All things assume the color of my love, I only see through its prismatic eyes. It vests the stars in hues of Paradise, And clothes the moon in soulshine from above If sun, moon, stars went out-earth were black night, I could live on and love by Love's celestial light. X. LOVE'S LAST SWEET DRAUGHT. A WEEK ago to-day, the hours embalmed, Upon thy breast I bowed my throbbing head, From out the crystal cup of love divine. Stars dawned. The storm of woe aback was driven, In muffled murmurs like a dying dirge. I heard the waves of bliss around me surge, And all the Angels calling me in heaven, When lo! the hand of Reason smote the bowl, And dashed it from the lips of my inebriate soul. |