Mutability

They say there's a high windless world and strange,

Out of the wash of days and temporal tide,

Where Faith and Good, Wisdom and Truth abide,

`Aeterna corpora', subject to no change.

There the sure suns of these pale shadows move;

There stand the immortal ensigns of our war;

Our melting flesh fixed Beauty there, a star,

And perishing hearts, imperishable Love. . . .

Dear, we know only that we sigh, kiss, smile;

Each kiss lasts but the kissing; and grief goes over;

Love has no habitation but the heart.

Poor straws! on the dark flood we catch awhile,

Cling, and are borne into the night apart.

The laugh dies with the lips, `Love' with the lover.