UPON A GENTLEMAN FALLING SERIOUSLY IN LOVE
Reading edition
Who loves his kind, loves bone, Flesh, play of sinew, shoot Of sense, the turn of a head, A voice answering his own: Who loves a house, loves stone, Iron, plaster, brick, glass, lead, Timber hewn off and mute— And these alone. Who wins his kind, wins store Of joys, griefs, memories, brain’s Diligence, heart’s ease, a share Of life not his before: Who gains a house, a core Of blank and senseless air Cased up in matter gains— And nothing more. Sun may warm stone, awaken Casement, with farewell kiss Flush thatch—’tis all a show. Though man a more unshaken Diurnal love bestow— He gains not even this. And blest are they whose thrall Hearts can endure this passion, Hopeless, uncompromised By aught reciprocal; Yea, saints emparadised May love God after this fashion.