Before Dawn

Sweet life, if life were stronger,     Earth clear of years that wrong her,     Then two things might live longer,     Two sweeter things than they;     Delight, the rootless flower,     And love, the bloomless bower;     Delight that lives an hour,     And love that lives a day.     From evensong to daytime,     When April melts in Maytime,     Love lengthens out his playtime,     Love lessens breath by breath,     And kiss by kiss grows older     On listless throat or shoulder     Turned sideways now, turned colder     Than life that dreams of death.     This one thing once worth giving     Life gave, and seemed worth living;     Sin sweet beyond forgiving     And brief beyond regret:     To laugh and love together     And weave with foam and feather     And wind and words the tether     Our memories play with yet.     Ah, one thing worth beginning,     One thread in life worth spinning,     Ah sweet, one sin worth sinning     With all the whole souls will;     To lull you till one stilled you,     To kiss you till one killed you,     To feed you till one filled you,     Sweet lips, if love could fill;     To hunt sweet Love and lose him     Between white arms and bosom,     Between the bud and blossom,     Between your throat and chin;     To say of shame, what is it?     Of virtue, we can miss it;     Of sin, we can but kiss it,     And its no longer sin:     To feel the strong soul, stricken     Through fleshly pulses, quicken     Beneath swift sighs that thicken,     Soft hands and lips that smite;     Lips that no love can tire,     With hands that sting like fire,     Weaving the web Desire     To snare the bird Delight.     But love so lightly plighted,     Our love with torch unlighted,     Paused near us unaffrighted,     Who found and left him free;     None, seeing us cloven in sunder,     Will weep or laugh or wonder;     Light love stands clear of thunder,     And safe from winds at sea.     As, when late larks give warning     Of dying lights and dawning,     Night murmurs to the morning,     Lie still, O love, lie still;     And half her dark limbs cover     The white limbs of her lover,     With amorous plumes that hover     And fervent lips that chill;     As scornful day represses     Nights void and vain caresses,     And from her cloudier tresses     Unwinds the gold of his,     With limbs from limbs dividing     And breath by breath subsiding;     For love has no abiding,     But dies before the kiss;     So hath it been, so be it;     For who shall live and flee it?     But look that no man see it     Or hear it unaware;     Lest all who love and choose him     See Love, and so refuse him;     For all who find him lose him,     But all have found him fair.