Splendid and Terrible

Splendid and terrible your love. The searing pinions of its flight Flamed but a moment’s space above The place where ancient memories keep Their quiet; and the dreaming deep Moved inly with a troubled light, And that old passion woke and stirred Out of its sleep. Splendid and terrible your love. I hold it to me like a flame; I hold it like a flame above The empty anguish of my breast. There let it stay, there let it rest— Deep in the heart whereto it came Of old as some wind-wearied bird Drops to its nest.