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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=431943" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hymn to Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,<br> As théou, Léove, were the déep thought<br>And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,<br> Thy fires of thought out-spoken: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But burn’d not through us thy imagining<br> Like fiérce méood in a séong céaught,<br>We were as clamour’d words a fool may fling,<br> Loose words, of meaning broken. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For what more like the brainless speech of a fool,—<br> The lives travelling dark fears,<br>And as a boy throws pebbles in a pool<br> Thrown down abysmal places? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hazardous are the stars, yet is our birth<br> And our journeying time theirs;<br>As words of air, life makes of starry earth<br> Sweet soul-delighted faces; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As voices are we in the worldly wind;<br> The great wind of the world’s fate<br>Is turn’d, as air to a shapen sound, to mind<br> And marvellous desires. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But not in the world as voices storm-shatter’d,<br> Not borne down by the wind’s weight;<br>The rushing time rings with our splendid word<br> Like darkness fill’d with fires. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Love doth use us for a sound of song,<br> And Love’s meaning our life wields,<br>Making our souls like syllables to throng<br> His tunes of exultation. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Down the blind speed of a fatal world we fly,<br> As rain blown along earth’s fields;<br>Yet are we god-desiring liturgy,<br> Sung joys of adoration; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yea, made of chance and all a labouring strife,<br> We go charged with a strong flame;<br>For as a language Love hath seized on life<br> His burning heart to story. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yea, Love, we are thine, the liturgy of thee,<br> Thy thought’s golden and glad name,<br>The mortal conscience of immortal glee,<br> Love’s zeal in Love’s own glory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lascelles+Abercrombie">Lascelles Abercrombie</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=431943" data-title="Hymn to Love de Lascelles Abercrombie" data-description="We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,
 As théou, Léove, were the déep thought
And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,
 Thy fires of thought out-spoken: 

But burn’d not through us thy imagining
 Like fiérce méo..."></div>
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