Each cup shall be broken,
Each tower shall fall,
All drink be bitter,
Bitter as gall,
The dark heart go lonely —
Save for one tower,
One cyathus only,
One wine of power!
My love's white beauty
Is this tower,
The wine of her beauty
My wine of power,
The cup of her spirit
Mine to drain
With awful knowledge
And trembling pain.
She only, she only
Stands on the stars.
Her small hands grapple
Heaven's black bars.
Only her deep love
Pays the price
Of a sight of the vistas
Of paradise.
Each goblet may shatter,
Each tower may fall,
Low livid sunset
Darken on all —
In her soul's high tower
My love pours wine,
And the glory and the power
Of the stars are mine!