Classic Poem

LOVE , that Love cannot share,
Now turn to air!
And fade to ashes, O my daily bread;
Save only if you may
So be the stay
Of the uncomforted.

Look down, you far-off lights,
From smoke-veiled heights, —
If there be dwelling in our wilderness!
For Love, the Refugee,
No stronghold can there be, —
No shelter more, while these go shelterless.

Love hath no home beside
His own two arms spread wide; —
The only home, among all walls that are;
So there may come to cling,
Some yet forlorner thing,
Feeling its way, along the blackened star!