Oh, to taste again the dew
Of a romance budding new!
Grant me days with Fancy's daughter,
With her touch as fresh as water.
Then, to feel the fluttered start
Of a newly conquered heart's
Sanguine beats, of youth unending;
Falling-pace to love ascending.
Till, with greedy smugness, we
Dare to grant eternity.
Then complacent trust shall conquer,
And our hard-won love is over.
Love cannot survive the chase.
Hearts should touch, not interlace;
Bound, when certain futures given
Grant the coward soul its heaven.
No! Seek not your selves to meld;
Passion cannot breathe when held!
As the flowers of spring awaken,
Doomed to wilt if they are taken.
Fear that safety! Fear warm Summer!
Let the dreams of March outshine her!
Till the cooling clouds shall cover,
And our hard-won love is over.
Romance; let her wings unfurl!
Into daily motions hurl
Reckless hopes, in free elation,
Rid of comfort's suffocation.
Do not let your touches cling;
Passion is a passing thing.
Nymph-like, it is never caught,
Swayed or bargained, stole or bought.
Love cannot survive embrace!
Savour Beauty, soon her face,
Once star-like, shall supernova,
And your hard-won love is over.
No comments:
Post a Comment