There, I sit with Love in the sun,
And we two never have done
Singing sweeter songs than are guessed by one."
Heart, wilt thou go?
—"No, no!
Warm hearts are fuller so."
VI.
O Heart, O Love,—I fear
That Love may be kept too near.
Hast heard, O Heart, that tale,
How Love may be false and frail
To a heart once holden dear?
—"But this true Love of mine
Clings fast as the clinging vine,
And mingles pure as the grapes in wine."
Heart, wilt thou go?
—"No, no!
Full hearts beat higher so."
VII.
O Heart, O Love, beware!—
Look up, and boast not there.
For who has twirled at the pin?
'Tis the world, between Death and Sin,—
The world, and the world's Despair!
And Death has quickened his pace
To the hearth, with a mocking face,
Familiar as Love, in Love's own place—
Heart, wilt thou go?
—"Still, no!
High hearts must grieve even so."
