Attraction
He who wills life wills its condition sweet,Having made love its mother, joy its quest,That its perpetual sequence might not restOn reason’s dictum, cold and too discreet;
For reason moves with cautious, careful feet,Debating whether life or death were best,And why pale pain, not ruddy mirth, is guestIn many a heart which life hath set to beat.
But I will cast my fate with love, and trustHer honeyed heart that guides the pollened beeAnd sets the happy wing-seeds fluttering free;
And I will bless the law which saith, Thou must!And, wet with sea or shod with weary dust,Will follow back and back and back to thee!