Percy Bysshe Shelley: O dearest love !

* O dearest love ! we shall be dead and cold

Before this morn may on the world arise.

Wouldst thou the glory of its dawn behold ?

Alas ! gaze not on me, but turn thine eyes

On thine own heart — it is a Paradise Which everlasting spring has made  its own,

And while drear winter fills the naked skies,

Sweet streams of sunny thought, and flowers fresh blown,

Are there, and weave their sounds and odors into one.

XXVII

*In their own hearts the earnest of the hope

Which made them great the good will ever find;

And though some envious shade may interlope

Between the effect and it.

One comes behind,

Who aye the future to the past will bind

— Necessity, whose sightless strength forever

Evil with evil, good with good, must wind

In bands of union, which no power may sever;

They must bring forth their kind, and be divided never !

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Phot. Pixabay