Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/A Round

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For other versions of this work, see A Round (Coates).


THE end of life is living,
And 't is through love we live—
Through taking and through giving.
Then freely take—and give!

When into life we blunder,
Love waits to soothe our woe;
And 't is love's hand doth sunder
Our bonds when hence we go.

Nor life nor love is mortal:
Love holds of life the key,
And life is the veiled portal
To love's infinity!