The Poetry Corner

Love.

By Jean Ingelow

Who veileth love should first have vanquished fate. She folded up the dream in her deep heart, Her fair full lips were silent on that smart, Thick fringd eyes did on the grasses wait. What good? one eloquent blush, but one, and straight The meaning of a life was known; for art Is often foiled in playing nature's part, And time holds nothing long inviolate. Earth's buried seed springs up - slowly, or fast: The ring came home, that one in ages past Flung to the keeping of unfathomed seas: And golden apples on the mystic trees Were sought and found, and borne away at last, Though watched of the divine Hesperides.