We are in love’s land to-day; | |
Where shall we go? | |
Love, shall we start or stay, | |
Or sail or row? | |
There’s many a wind and way, | |
And never a May but May; | |
We are in love’s hand to-day; | |
Where shall we go? | |
Our landwind is the breath | |
10 | Of sorrows kissed to death |
And joys that were; | |
Our ballast is a rose; | |
Our way lies where God knows | |
And love knows where | |
We are in love’s hand to-day – | |
Our seamen are fledged Loves, | |
Our masts are bills of doves, | |
Our decks fine gold; | |
Our ropes are dead maids’ hair, | |
20 | Our stores are love-shafts fair |
And manifold. | |
We are in love’s land to-day – | |
Where shall we land you, sweet? | |
On fields of strange men’s feet, | |
Or fields near home? | |
Or where the fire-flowers blow, | |
Or where the flowers of snow | |
Or flowers of foam? | |
We are in love’s hand to-day – | |
30 | Land me, she says, where love |
Shows but one shaft, one dove, | |
One heart, one hand. | |
– A shore like that, my dear, | |
Lies where no man will steer, | |
No maiden land. | |
Imitated from Théophile Gautier. |