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| YOU promise heavens free from strife, | |
| Pure truth, and perfect change of will; | |
| But sweet, sweet is this human life, | |
| So sweet, I fain would breathe it still: | |
| Your chilly stars I can forego, | 5 |
| This warm kind world is all I know. | |
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| You say there is no substance here, | |
| One great reality above: | |
| Back from that void I shrink in fear, | |
| And child-like hide myself in love: | 10 |
| Show me what angels feel. Till then, | |
| I cling, a mere weak man, to men. | |
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| You bid me lift my mean desires | |
| From faltering lips and fitful veins | |
| To sexless souls, ideal quires, | 15 |
| Unwearied voices, wordless strains: | |
| My mind with fonder welcome owns | |
| One dear dead friend’s remembered tones. | |
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| Forsooth the present we must give | |
| To that which cannot pass away; | 20 |
| All beauteous things for which we live | |
| By laws of time and space decay. | |
| But oh, the very reason why | |
| I clasp them, is because they die. | |
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