Come, let us make love deathless, thou and I,
Seeing that our footing on the Earth is brief—
Seeing that her multitudes sweep out to die
Mocking at all that passes their belief.
For standard of our love not theirs we take:
If we go hence to-day
Fill the high cup that is so soon to break
With richer wine than they!
Ay, since beyond these walls no heavens there be
Joy to revive or wasted youth repair,
I’ll not bedim the lovely flame in thee
Nor sully the sad splendour that we wear.
Great be the love, if with the lover dies
Our greatness past recall,
And nobler for the fading of those eyes
The world seen once for all.