Clouds Without Water

Love is sore wounded by the dragon shame, O maiden o' mine! its life in jets of blocd Languidly ebbs. I see the gathering flame Aspire — expire. I see the evil flood Of time roll even and steady over it, Bearing our God to the accurst ravines; Bearing our God to the abysmal pit Whence never a God may rise. The wolfish queens Of earth have set their faces stern and sour Against us ; we are bidden to cease — to cease! Ha ! how eternity laughs down their hour, Dragoons their malice with its dominant peace. We are forbidden to love — as one who tries At noontide to forbid the sun to rise.