Eros in His Idleness

Eros in his idleness,
By which I came to find in time
The mirror of my own face,
Lovelorn, worn, torn, and wan.

Having trusted much to fae Himeros or Fancy high,
Sprung from the heart not from the mind
And stared as my eyes went ever blind
Stealing jade galaxies of green light -
As blue-bells, violets, nightingales went floating by
On the burnished waters of blue life.

Having been long this night adrift on lonely tides,
And perjured for my fool's pride,
Being one folly of all kinds,
Beholden to none
Save the arms of wine and moonlight.

And all the seasons which span to Thee O Love,
Be they struck in silver, platinum, or gold -
Or strewn on tear-streaked winds of jeweled dust
Across autumnal fields and vernal shores.

But so long as you and I still hold, O Hopeful Love,
Resolute in this fevered world
Might we move those mountains which so divide
Or bend the very horizon nigh,
By ropes of rose-petals twined or silken vines,
Or simply diaphanous tricks of light.

And see we at last the crystal cloudless sky
And scatter, oh Page, fair Romeo to the stars
To shine and make so fine our midnight hours;
Or cast dear Juliet to the seas,
To make so pure, serene, and sweet our waters.

Or press precious Iseult's kiss tender upon my Tristan skins
In evergreen pines, or sleet, or city walls so high,
And sigh an endless blissful sigh,
And dream together endless dreams alive.

But, oh, if I am to be so denied,
And sent to wile my life away
Under lone quiet trees and clouds of gray;
And if I should never learn the grace of Thee,
Or hold such passions unfurl'd before my eyes
Know that I shall die smiling still
To know that you gave such beauty to the world.