That one should love me is enough, Be my path smooth or be it rough; Though on my head no splendours shine, Love crowns me with the victor-vine.
If on my ears no plaudits fall Proclaiming me from stall to stall, Behind the scenes I wait my turn, Who saw two eyes with longing burn.
Somewhere within that audience Gleamed golden Love's magnificence; I stood triumphant for a space Held by the rapture on one face.
Out of the discord of to-day, Hark how the well-tuned harp-strings play! Peace, O my Soul! One song is true, Though thunder-clouds conceal the blue.
Down in the lowest deep of hell One word of love upon me fell; Forthwith my flame-scarred face was bold, Uplifted to a gate of gold.
Upon my path a phantom form Threatened with terror as of storm, Smote me with lightning; I was strong, Hearing the cadence of a song.
A while within an awful wood, Uncertain of the path I stood; A shout of laughter from a tree Where lurked a devil, frightened me.
Then there was whispering of leaves, Soft as of swallows under eaves: “I love you, love you!” Lo! a light Sundered the murkiness of night.
Three times I fell, three times I rose To face the menacing of foes — What gave me strength again to stand? Out of the dark I felt a hand!
Out of the dark and dread of death, Upon my brow I felt a breath; And by the brink of that abyss The consolation of a kiss.
Past many moors of pain I trod Impeded by the clinging clod, Until within one waking morn Love in response to love was born.
Love in response to love was mine! The water-jar was filled with wine, The broken cruse again restored, And green had grown the withered gourd.
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