Poetry Archives

“Oh! Love,” they said, “is King of Kings,
 And Triumph is his crown.
Earth fades in flame before his wings,
 And Sun and Moon bow down.”—
But that, I knew, would never do;
 And Heaven is all too high.
So whenever I meet a Queen, I said,
 I will not catch her eye.

“Oh! Love,” they said, and “Love,” they said,
 “The gift of Love is this;
A crown of thorns about thy head,
 And vinegar to thy kiss!”—
But Tragedy is not for me;
 And I’m content to be gay.
So whenever I spied a Tragic Lady,
 I went another way.

And so I never feared to see
 You wander down the street,
Or come across the fields to me
 On ordinary feet.
For what they’d never told me of,
 And what I never knew;
It was that all the time, my love,
 Love would be merely you.