| George William (“A. E.”) Russell (1867–1935). Collected Poems by A.E. 1913. |
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| 70. The Message |
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| DO you not feel the white glow in your breast, my bird? | |
| That is the flame of love I send to you from afar: | |
| Not a wafted kiss, hardly a whispered word, | |
| But love itself that flies as a white-winged star. | |
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| Let it dwell there, let it rest there, at home in your heart: | 5 |
| Wafted on winds of gold, it is Love itself, the Dove. | |
| Not the god whose arrows wounded with bitter smart, | |
| Nor the purple-fiery birds of death and love. | |
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| Do not ask for the hands of love or love’s soft eyes: | |
| They give less than love who give all, giving what wanes. | 10 |
| I give you the star-fire, the heart-way to Paradise, | |
| With no death after, no arrow with stinging pains. | |
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