Adonis

Love is a changing lord,
As the light on a turning sword,
           Changing —
Amethyst, silver, or gold;
As fauns, or as dryads of old,
           Ranging;
Careless of symbol or form,
Coming in quiet or storm,
           Blowing
Over the heart like a wind,
Nor sorrowful, nor unkind,
           Going;
Brilliant and gay as a Greek
Marble that seems to speak,
           Knowing
All that the flesh would fain;
As the waters that leave no stain,
           Flowing.
He who would seek to find
Love, must go seek the wind
           Flying
High above whispering strings,
Far from all mortal things,
           Dying;
He who would seek to know
Love, be content to go
           Veiling
Ever his eyes from blight,
Up where the dawn's clear light,
           Paling,
Covers the stars and the moon,
Covers the sun at noon,
           Giving
Essence of all divine
Lost in the sense of time,
           Living.
Life that is but a breath,
What, then, is change, or death?
           Mortals,
Loving love as they love the wind,
Out of the world, and the world's way find
           Portals.