Poetry day - Love's fire
This might not suit the moment of a Monday lunch time, but I thought I'd post another poem. When discussing the poem by Christina Rossetti posted below with my new-found friend she repeated the line "Love’s fire Thou art, however cold I be". On that theme, here is a portion of Little Gidding by TS Eliot:
The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one discharge from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre —
To be redeemed from fire by fire.
Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
We only live, only suspire
Consumed by either fire or fire.
Little Gidding, TS Eliot