Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
VII. Loves PowerLove
Thomas Kibble Hervey (18041859)T
Is in the loved one’s merged;
O, never by love’s own warm art
So cold a plea was urged!
No!—hearts that love hath crowned or crossed
Love fondly knits together;
But not a thought or hue is lost
That made a part of either.
It is an ill-told tale that tells
Of “hearts by love made one;”
He grows who near another’s dwells
More conscious of his own;
In each spring up new thoughts and powers
That mid love’s warm, clear weather,
Together tend like climbing flowers,
And, turning, grow together.
Yield up its half of bliss;
The wells are in the neighbor heart
When there is thirst in this:
There findeth love the passion-flowers
On which it learns to thrive,
Makes honey in another’s bowers,
But brings it home to hive.
To each low beat it beats,
Smiles back the smiles, sighs back the sighs,
And every throb repeats.
Then, since one loving heart still throws
Two shadows in love’s sun,
How should two loving hearts compose
And mingle into one?