THE FOURTEENTH DAY 
 
“ Some there be that shadows kiss ; 
Such have but a shadow’s bliss ; 
There be fools alive, I wis.” 
Merchant of Venice. 
 
All day we chose each moment possible 
When to the other’s face each face might cling, 
Each kiss burn forth, a double fiery sting 
Exalting us in joy foreseen to swell 
A mighty exultation ; it befell, 
However, that I saw the shadowy thing 
Lurk behind love, and flap a scornful wing, 
Seeing our honour stood a citadel. 
 
I saw the foolishness of love and saith : 
“ I am exalted over shame and death, 
But will not take my fill of death and shame.” 
For each kiss leaps, a more insistent breath, 
And adds fresh fuel to the amorous flame, 
Not quells it—Is not honour but a name ? 
 
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