My Love

By George Sterling

In woman's dark and tedious war with Fate,
    Abide three comrades for her spirit mild:
    The mother, and the sweetheart, and the child.
Seldom the love maternal turns to hate,
The child's well nigh as seldom; but the mate
    Stands oft with forces passionate and wild,
    Not always to renouncement reconciled;
Not always loyal and compassionate.

All of a mother's love I cannot give,
    Yet somewhat of thy child I fain would be,
And as thy faithful lover always live,
        Be thou my star, and I will seek thy rays!
    Grant thou my heart a service but to thee,
        Thro' nights of rapture and achieving days!

Glen Ellen.

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