Will love descend

A HEAVEN-BORN goddess is sweet love:
Will she descend to common cares,
And breathe our dusty, earthly airs
In narrow paths, nor pine to rove?

She'll want soft carpets for her feet;
She'll want rich jewels in her hair,
From out her windows landscapes rare,
And in must float all perfumes sweet.

She'd weary of a petty round
Of household tasks that every day
Fritter and fret the life away,—
Though husband worshipped, children crowned.

Yes, heart that thought the heavens to scale,
And pluck a star from her bright zone,
Stars are too high to call thine own:
Go seek a rushlight in the vale.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.