The Star and the Garter

Whither, we know not. But we know That if our joy were always so We might not know it. Strange indeed This earth where all is paradox, Pushed to the truth: what lies succeed When every truth essential mocks Its truth in figure of a phrase? How should I care for this, and tire Body by will to sing thy praise, Who take this lute, throw down the lyre As I have done to-day, to win No guerdon differing from the toil, Were that accomplished : pain and sin Are needed for the counterfoil Of joy and love: if only so All men had these in keen excess Those were forgotten : indigo Is amber’s shadow, but—confess For all men but ourselves the tint Of all the earth is dull and black! Only some glints of love bestow The knowledge of what meteor wrack Trails pestilence across the sky. But we are other—you and I! So shall we live in deep content, Unchanging bliss, despise them still Groping on isle and continent 68