Love

• They say the jackal and the mole
• Drink from the selfsame stream
• Where the lion comes to drink.
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• And they say the eagle and the vulture
• Dig their beaks into the same carcass,
• And are at peace, one with the other,
• In the presence of the dead thing.
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• O love, whose lordly hand
• Has bridled my desires,
• And raised my hunger and my thirst
• To dignity and pride,
• Let not the strong in me and the constant
• Eat the bread or drink the wine
• That tempt my weaker self.
• Let me rather starve,
• And let my hearrt parch with thirst,
• And let me die and perish,
• Ere I stretch my hand
• To a cup you did not fill,
• Or a bowl you did not bless.