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THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: My love walks scatheless through the fire
Last Line: Burns the supreme, surpassing flame!
Subject(s): Passion

My love walks scatheless through the fire.
Yea, in the furnace of desire,
Like its white core irradiate
With impulse strong and passionate,
My love uplifts a gloried face.
Nor angels fail me in that place --
Such angels of supreme desire
As walked by Shadrach in the fire!

Before the golden shape of Lust
I saw men prostrate in the dust;
Homage like that of days long gone
On Dura's plain by Babylon.
Their wailing grows. Their breath comes sharp
When sounds the shawm or twangs the harp,
When cries the herald, "Lord is Lust!
Bow down and worship in the dust!"

The laughing fiend who bids this thing,
Like as of old that evil king,
Hath heard by night and heard by morn
The challenge of mine utter scorn.
Therefore from out his furnace I
Must lift my hated voice to cry
The passion that transcends this thing
Wrought by Hell's old and evil king.

My love walks scatheless through the fire.
The angel of supreme desire.
Stooped toward me through the thickening flame.
The utter glory of his name
Goes through me like a piercing sword.
Purity's passion is my lord,
Fashioned of far more pulsing fire
Than gods of all abased desire.

He looks aghast, their king, nor dares
To hear me chant his quick despairs --
Great paeans that shake Heaven's glowing hall,
Whence angels all antiphonal
Sound harps of sudden storming bliss
Shaken from Heaven's heart, that is
Most passionate with love that dares
Every disaster -- all despairs!

Cleaving to one in whom it flowers,
Higher and greater its glory towers;
The passion of love's purity
Reaching to Heaven in verity.
Before their idols, smeared with dust,
Grovel the little slaves of lust;
But crowned with red immortal flowers
Even to God's height Love's triumph towers!

Laughing for Love's enduring name,
This have I seen who walked the flame
And step from out the furnace-blast
Unscorched, unscathed. His face aghast,
The laughing fiend can work no fear
With quivering whispers in mine ear
Of "passion." Fool! Round pure Love's name
Burns the supreme, surpassing flame!

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