Chapter III
Look down the shining peaks of all my daysBase-hidden in the valleys of deep night,So shalt thou see the heights and depths of praiseMy love would render unto love’s delight;For I would make each day an Alp sublimeOf passionate snow, white-hot yet icy-clear,—One crystal of the true-loves of all timeSpiring the world’s prismatic atmosphere;And I would make each night an awful valeDeep as thy soul, obscure as modesty,With every star in heaven trembling paleO’er sweet profounds where only Love can see.Oh, runs not thus the lesson thou hast taught?—When life’s all love, ’tis life: aught else, ’tis naught.