Samuel Taylor Coleridge
< Song >
Poetical Works (1828, 56)
composed c.1827, 55.
Though veiled in spires of myrtle wreath,
Love is a sword that cuts its sheath,
And through the clefts, itself has made,
We spy the flashes of the blade!
But through the clefts, itself has made,
We likewise see Love's flashing blade,
By rust consumed or snapt in twain:
And only hilt and stump remain.
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