SO, in the end, there is nothing left but this: The yet unbroken sureness of our love... If that were truth, instead of a vain lie, I should speak it aloud to you, or make it plain At a touch that now you cannot hope to know... Oh, no, do not mistake me. Love is sure; There is no lie in that;—but the world beside— What atom of it changes today for us? You know, if love were the only thing remaining, I should have no sorrow in my thoughts at all; But because no part of the earth is disturbed or shaken By what to us is become catastrophe, I learn the irony that all must learn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IF HE SHOULD COME by EDWIN MARKHAM HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 11 by EZRA POUND HORACE TO LEUCONOE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON IN THE TRENCHES by ISAAC ROSENBERG TO A LADY WHO HAD OFFERED HIM A WREATH OF LAUREL by GEORGE SANTAYANA |