Love's Shadow

By George Sterling

Great love is ever sorrow. In some way
    I cannot picture but must always feel,
    Grief to great love is sacrament and seal—
On love's blue dome a distant cloud of grey;
A hush beyond the music of the day;
    A tabernacle pure where mourners kneel;
    A sunset fair on "which the night shall steal;
Beloved starlight that the dawn, shall slay.

Ah! we who love, think not that we shall miss
    That sense of things too lovely to endure!
    For souls that know, as thine, his gracious lure,
        The seraph Sorrow hath his hidden skies,
And when I gain thy lips I somehow kiss
        That lonely angel of the solemn eyes.


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