I have loved Thee with two loves -
a selfish love and a love that is worthy of Thee.
As for the love which is selfish,
Therein I occupy myself with Thee,
to the exclusion of all others.
But in the love which is worthy of Thee,
Thou dost raise the veil that I may see Thee.
Yet is the praise not mine in this or that,
But the praise is to Thee in both that and this.

The atmosphere of Heaven is love, and when
The portal outward swings for souls redeemed,
The precious ether, so released, is streamed
Upon a weary world. God's gift to men
It is, for spirits turned to Him. Oh, then,
They, over whom this wondrous waft is beamed,
Inbreathing it, see visions brain ne'er dreamed,
Or through another source may dream again.

The world is glorified; they sing and sound
A quivering key-note of such ecstasy,
The keen vibrations throb till there is found
A soul companion of rare harmony.

Deep in the moving depths
Of yellow wine,
I swore I'd drown your face,
O love of mine;
All clad in yellow hue,
So fair to see,
You crouched within my cup
And laughed at me.
Twice o'er a learned page
I turned and tossed,
For would I not forget
The love I lost?
All stern and robed in gloom,
You read it too;
I could not see the words—
Saw only you.
Within the hungry chase
I thought to kill
You, love, who haunted thus
Without my will;
But in the gentle gaze
Of fawn and deer,
Your eyes disarmed my hand,

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Oft in my waking dreams do I
Live o'er again that happy hour,
When midway on the mount I lay,
Beside the ruin'd tower.

The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene,
Had blended with the lights of eve;
And she was there, my hope, my joy,
My own dear Genevieve!

She lean'd against the armèd man,
The statue of the armèd Knight;
She stood and listen'd to my lay,
Amid the lingering light.

Foolish love is only folly;
Wanton love is too unholy;
Greedy love is covetous;
Idle love is frivolous;
But the gracious love is it
That doth prove the work of it.

Beauty but deceives the eye;
Flattery leads the ear awry;
Wealth doth but enchant the wit;
Want, the overthrow of it;
While in Wisdom's worthy grace,
Virtue sees the sweetest face.

There hath Love found out his life,
Peace without all thought of strife;
Kindness in Discretion's care;
Truth, that clearly doth declare
Faith doth in true fancy prove,

Love, an atom,
destroys our life.

Love, a poison,
carries our death.

Love, a storm,
uproots our peace.

Yet I am ready
to die for love.
What a tragedy,
I die for love!

-

Spanish Version

Amor

Amor, un atomo,
Destruye nuestra vida.

Amor, un veneno,
nos conduce a la muerte.

Amor, una tormenta,
Desarraiga nuestra paz.

Sin embargo estoy listo
para morir por amor.
Que tragedia,
Morir por amor

In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed;
In war, he mounts the warrior’s steed;
In halls, in gay attire is seen;
In hamlets, dances on the green.
Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And men below and saints above;
For love is heaven, and heaven is love.

The thing comes
of itself

(Look up
to see
the cat & the squirrel,
the one
torn, a red thing,
& the other
somehow immaculate

as i held your lotus hand
and stared
into the deep of your eyes,
a whole world of unsung songs
passed between us

……….. The imperial votress passed on
In maiden meditation, fancy free.

Midsummer Night's Dream,
Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?

BENEDICT, in Much Ado about Nothing.

I
WHEN the tree of Love is budding first,
Ere yet its leaves are green,
Ere yet, by shower and sunbeam nurst
Its infant life has been;
The wild bee's slightest touch might wring
The buds from off the tree,
As the gentle dip of the swallow's wing
Breaks the bubbles on the sea.

II
But when its open leaves have found