A Love-Letter

WHAT shall I write thee, Love? — so far away,
And yet so very near. What can I say
That thou hast not already heard a thousand times ?
Shall I compose for thee unmeaning rhymes,
Like this I send to thee to-day?

What can I do for thee that thou wouldst have ?
What can I tell thee that thou fain wouldst hear?
My love for thee gives me a heart so brave
That, far from thee, or near
To thy dear side, I gladly hold my life
A tenure lent from thee, my soul, my more than wife,
For thee to save ;
Or else, through thee to lose,
Shouldst thou to save refuse.

I love thee, Sweet, supremely ; more I cannot tell.
What words remain to write thee, Love, that thou wouldst hear ?
Ah ! listen to the tolling of the bell
That tolls within me solemnly the knell
Of my past years. And, laid upon the bier,
See my dead self! Lament with me his death ;
For he was valiant, yes, and not untrue ;
But he must die, because he knew not you.
And so his breath
Passed from him, and his soul is well.

And then rejoice with me that I have found
A newer self and one I hold more dear, —
A self that bids adieu to hope or fear,
Save when they both are centred here, —
Here in my boundless, endless love for thee.
But, shouldst thou turn aside
In negligence or pride,
His spirit free
Methinks will, ere a little time, have died ;
And thou the loss must mourn with bitterest tear.
Forgive me, Love, I fear I sadden thee
When I would cheer.

I love thee, love thee ; more I dare not tell.
I love thee, love thee, love thee, beats my heart;
And like a mountain cataract, my blood
Foams down its courses, till that funeral bell
Grows faint and fainter for the gurgling flood
That drowns its melancholy music. Then, with sudden start,
I wake to life again, to world and worldly things ;
But they in haste resolve themselves to this, —
Absence to yearning and the farewell kiss
That sealed our parting, and the doubt which brings
The writhings and the agonies of hell.
I love thee, love thee, love thee; more I cannot tell.

I must forbear to write, my life, my love ;
I know I sadden thee, my thoughts are dark.
Ah, grant me, Love, a single spark
From thy pure soul’s angelic flame ! Then, high above,
My voice shall rapturous sing and rapturous soar
Forevermore.