Six 14-Line Poems

III.

OH, Love, on thee a burden has been laid,

Now in this latter day of doubt and dread!

Be pure, that thou be strong, and unafraid

To meet the hosts wherewith thou art bested.

Thou only champion of the soul blasphemed

By arrogant young science! Show thine eyes

Immortal, and thy pledges unredeemed—

Then challenge them to shut thee from the skies!

Oh, Love, with thee we fall, with thee we rise:

Be pure, that thou be strong in death's despite;

Then creeds may wax or wane 'mid tears and sighs,

But never shall the world be lost in night.

Thine is the one evangel, through all forms

Of change surviving, riding out all storms.