Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate,
Where that comes in that shall not go again;
Love sells the
proud heart's citadel to Fate.
They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then,
When two mouths,
thirsty each for each, find slaking,
And agony's forgot, and hushed the crying
Of credulous hearts, in heaven --
such are but taking
Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying
Each in his lonely night, each
with a ghost.
Some share that night. But they know love grows colder,
Grows false and dull, that was
sweet lies at most.
Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder,
But darkens, and dies out from kiss to
All this is love; and all love is but this.