Herbert Trench (1865–1923)

COME, let us make love deathless, thou and I,

Seeing that our footing on the Earth is brief—

Seeing that her multitudes sweep out to die

Mocking at all that passes their belief.

For standard of our love not theirs we take:

If we go hence to-day,

Fill the high cup that is so soon to break

With richer wine than they!

Ay, since beyond these walls no heavens there be,

Joy to revive or wasted youth repair,

I’ll not bedim the lovely flame in thee,

Nor sully the sad splendour that we wear.

Great be the love, if with the lover dies

Our greatness past recall,

And nobler for the fading of those eyes

The world seen once for all.