Algernon Charles Swinburne
We are in Love's land today, Where shall we go?
Love, shall we start or stay,
Or sail or row?
There's many a wind and way,
And never a May but May;
We are in love's hand today;
Where shall we go?
Our land-wind is the breath
Of sorrows kissed to death
And joys that were;
Our ballast is a rose;
Our way lies where God knows
And love knows where.
We are in love's hand today—
Our seamen are fledged Loves,
Our masts are bills of doves,
Our decks fine gold;
Our ropes are dead maids'hair, Our stores are love-shafts fair
And manifold.
We are in love's land today—
Where shall we land you, sweet?
On fields of strange men's feet,
Or fields near home?
Or where the fire-flowers blow, Or where the flowers of snow
Or flowers of foam?
We are in love's hand today—
Land me, she says, where love
Shows but one shaft, one dove,
One heart, one land.—
A shore like that, my dear,
Lies where no man will steer,
No maiden land.