Classic and Contemporary Poetry
LOVE, by ANNA CORA OGDEN MOWATT RITCHIE Poet's Biography
First Line: Thou conqueror's conqueror, mighty love! To thee
Last Line: But he who wanders, never truly loved.
THOU conqueror's conqueror, mighty Love! to thee
Their crowns, their laurels, kings and heroes yield!
Lo! at thy shrine great Antony bows the knee,
Disdains his victor wreath, and flies the field!
From woman's lips Alcides lists thy tone,
And grasps the inglorious distaff for his sword!
An eastern sceptre at thy feet is thrown,
A nation's worshipp'd idol owns thee Lord!*
And well for Noorjehan his throne became,
When erst she ruled his empire in thy name!
The sorcerer, Jarchas, could to age restore
Youth's faded bloom, or childhood's vanish'd glee;
Magician, Love! canst thou not yet do more?
Is not the faithful heart kept young by thee?
But ne'er that traitor bosom form'd to stray,
Those perjured lips which twice thy vows have breathed,
Can know the rapture of thy magic sway,
Or find the balsam in thy garland wreathed;
Fancy, or Folly, may his breast have moved,
But he who wanders, never truly loved.
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