And where you love, you cannot break away
"Nothing can ever be the same again After this interchange of me and you,"
Lovers assert with all their might and main, Convinced that as their hearts are now fire-new Through all futurity it will be so, But here there is a dialectic too That plays within time's mirrors to and fro. Series of lovers to the infinite Reflected in the looking-glasses go; Recessing endlessly in pools of light, Alternate falsehood and sincerity Respond to one another in the night: "Lying is truth and only truth to, lie." When this is done there is no more to say Except the end of some half-smothered sigh, But lovers claim they know another way, With them at least it will be different, Their passion make a residential stay And all their ecstasy will not be spent In the brief moment of the spider's joy.
Yet why should they believe themselves eXempt, That their sole sympathies shall never cloy? They find an alibi, commit a crime In every dialogue of girl and boy, When they propose assassinating time, And coming to receive the penalty Plead madness in their reason and their rhyme.
In spiders' webs it is no use to fly.
The clocks prevent them when they would aspire To some provisional eternity.
Love within time is fire laid on to fire.
Home is themselves and no roads lead to home. Whatever permanence they may desire Passionate pilgrims never get to Rome, But look for fresh discoveries every day, Taking their years in seconds as they come. Down lovers' lane there is no other way.
ANTHONY HARTL I.Y•
Previous page
