Iii

MORRIS by himself. It is a wonder! Here's this poor thing, Life, Troubled with labours of the endless war The lusty flesh keeps up against the spirit; And down amid the anger--who knows whence?-- Comes Love, and at once the struggling mutiny Falls quiet, unendurably rebuked: And the whole strength of life is free to serve Spirit, under the regency of Love. The quiet that is in me! The bright peace! Instead of smoke and dust, the peace of Love! Truly I knew not what a turmoil life Has been, and how rebellious, till this peace Came shining down! And yet I have seen things, And heard things, that were strangely meaning this,-- Telling me strangely that life can be all One power undisturbed, one perfect honour,-- Waters at noonday sounding among hills, Or moonlight lost among vast curds of cloud;-- But never knew I it is only Love Can rule the noise of life to heavenly quiet. Ah, Jean, if thou wilt love me, thou shalt have Never from me upon thy purity The least touch of that eager baseness, known, For shame's disguising, by the name of Love Most wickedly; thou shalt not need to fear Aught from my love, for surely thou shalt know It is a love that almost fears to love thee.