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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536694" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Why Do I Love?</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why do I love?<br>Is it for men to choose<br>The hour of the hushed night when crowned with dews<br>From its sea grave the morning star shall wake?<br>Lo, while we drowsed, it rose on our heart's ache,<br>And all our heaven was red with the day's hues,<br>And glad birds chaunted from the trees above.<br>So was it with my heart that might not choose<br>But woke to love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why do I love?<br>The aureole of lost days<br>Is on thy brow and unforgotten face;<br>Faith's guiding light, the same which of old time<br>Sent men on knightly quests to deeds sublime<br>And the high prize which was their lady's grace.<br>Thither I follow, careless what shall prove,<br>So only at thy knees a little space<br>I too may love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why do I love?<br>The paths of life are steep,<br>And dark the issues and the gulfs how deep!<br>This wayside shrine invites my knees to kneel.<br>Thou, dearest Saint, in witness of my zeal<br>Biddest me walk in joy who only weep,<br>And fare forth comforted who vainly strove.<br>See how my steps in thy sweet service leap!<br>See how I love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why do I love?<br>There is a dream that stirs<br>My soul to its last depth of lost desires,<br>Music of waters in a thirsty land,<br>A step, a touch, the lingering of a hand,<br>Fingers that are the soft Spring's messengers,<br>And lips that to my kisses part and move<br>With passionate words which yet--how strange!--are hers,<br>Pleading for love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why do I love?<br>If one had told me this,<br>When I erewhile in the world's wilderness<br>Wandered uncertain or of Heaven or Hell,<br>How had I laughed as at a time--worn tale!<br>To--day, behold. I too speak prophecies,<br>And hang my votive garland in the grove,<br>And supplicate my god, and kneel and kiss<br>Her feet for love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why do I love?<br>Ah, love, I will not make<br>A longer reasoning even for thy sake;<br>Be it enough that I am pleasure's thrall.<br>Tell me thy will, in song or madrigal<br>Or word unspoken. Bid me bend or break,<br>And brave all wraths of Earth or Heaven above,<br>But not thy wrath. Ah! bid me not awake.<br>Bid me still love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</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=536694" data-title="Why Do I Love? de Wilfrid Scawen Blunt" data-description="Why do I love?
Is it for men to choose
The hour of the hushed night when crowned with dews
From its sea grave the morning star shall wake?
Lo, while we drowsed, it rose on our heart's ache,
And all our heaven was red with the day's hues,
And glad ..."></div>
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