Modern Love: XXVI

Love ere he bleeds, an eagle in high skies,

Has earth beneath his wings: from reddened eve

He views the rosy dawn. In vain they weave

The fatal web below while far he flies.

But when the arrow strikes him, there's a change.

He moves but in the track of his spent pain,

Whose red drops are the links of a harsh chain,

Binding him to the ground, with narrow range.

A subtle serpent then has Love become.

I had the eagle in my bosom erst:

Henceforward with the serpent I am cursed.

I can interpret where the mouth is dumb.

Speak, and I see the side-lie of a truth.

Perchance my heart may pardon you this deed:

But be no coward:—you that made Love bleed,

You must bear all the venom of his tooth!