Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LOVE, by ELIZABETH DOTEN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LOVE, by                    
First Line: O world! Somewhat I have to say to thee
Last Line: Shall find fruition in a brighter sphere.
Alternate Author Name(s): Doten, Lizzie
Subject(s): Hearts; Love; Passion; Poetry & Poets


O WORLD! somewhat I have to say to thee.
O sin-sick, heart-sick, soul-sick, love-sick World!
So ailing art thou, both in part and particle,
That solid truth thy stomach ill digests.
Yet, since thou art my mother, I will love thee,
And heedless of thy frowns, "will speak right on."

That which belongs to all men is least prized;
The thing most common is least understood.
That which is deep and silent is divine;
And there is nought on earth so craved, so common,
So misunderstood, or so divine, as Love.
When meted in proportion to man's need,
"Measure for measure" it doth purify,
Exalt, and make him equal with the gods.
He feeds upon ambrosia, and his drink
Is nectar; high Olympus cannot yield
Delights more grateful to his soul and sense.
Parnassus fails his rapture to express,
And Helicon hath less of inspiration.
But, prithee, should he chance to drink too deep
Of the exhilarating draught,—should plunge
Him head and ears into this 'wildering flood,—
Mark, then, what marvellous diversions
From the centre of his gravity ensue.
Judgment is scouted—sober common sense
Yields to imagination's airy flights;
Upon a swift-winged hippogriff he mounts,
To seek the fair Arcadia of his dreams.
He builds him castles—basks in moonshine—feeds
Among the lilies—pours his passion forth
In amorous canticles and burning sighs—
Makes him a bed of roses, and lies down
To revel in his rainbow-colored dreams—
Until some turn, some ill-begotten chance,
Most unexpectedly invades his peace,
And castles, moonshine, roses, rainbows fly,
And leave him to the stern realities of life.
Alas, poor Human Nature! Even fools
Must learn through sad experience to grow wise.

Love is the highest attribute of Deity;
And he who loves divinely is most blest.
It purgeth passion from the soul and sense,
And makes the man a unit in himself;
Head, eyes, hands, heart, all work in unison,
And beasts, and savages, and rudest hinds,
All feel alike its exercise of power.

Ambition cannot walk with it; for he
Who learns to live and love aright, loves all,
And finds preferment in the general weal.
Though, Proteus like, it takes a thousand forms,
It doth o'ercome all evil with its good,
Casteth out devils—sensuality, and sin,
And green-eyed jealousy, and hate; and like
Chrysostom, golden-mouthed, it doth attune
The words of common speech to sweet accord,
And gives significance to simplest things.

It buddeth out in tender infancy,
Like fresh-blown violets in the early spring,
And giveth form and fashion to all life.
For, by its character, it doth decide
What elements and essences the soul
Shall draw from contact with material things.
As roses draw their blushes, lilies whiteness,
Violets their azure, from the same dull earth,
So Love extracts the sweetnesses of Life,
And doth so mingle all within her crucible,
That she creates the difference between
Immortal souls. The fiery heart of youth,
Full of high aims and generous purposes of good,
Swells like the ocean-waves beneath the moon,
And brooketh no restraint, until it finds,
Its living counterpart, and mergeth all
It hath of truth, and manliness, and might,
Into a second and a dearer self.

So goes the world! and strong necessity
Creates the law of action, whose results
Join issue with the love of God himself.
O jealous, wanton, ill-conceited World!
How little dost thou understand the deep
Significance and potency of Love!
Thou hast defiled thyself with gross perversions,
Till purity of love is but a jest,
Or reckoned with the fantasies of fools.

O, I would take thee, dear Humanity,
And set thee face to face with perfect Love.
She is thy mother. Love and Wisdom met
United by Eternal Power. The worlds
Sprang forth from chaos; and the love which brought
Them into being doth sustain them still.
The monad and the angel rest alike
Within its all-embracing arms; and life,
And death, with all that makes our mortal state,
Are cradled at the footstool of this power.
Then, sweet Humanity, thou favored child
Of God, look up! An everlasting chain
Doth bind thee to the mighty heart of all.
Love's labor never can be lost. He who
Created, shall, through Love, perfect and save;
And that which hath such poor expression here,
Shall find fruition in a brighter sphere.





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