Chapter XIV

There needs must be misunderstandings, dear;
For love is more than the much-written word,--
Transcends it, as the home-flight of a bird
Is distanced by the sun. Let fall the fear;
Let Joy and constant Certainty appear
Armed with angelic swords of flame that gird
Their thighs; for though the day with rain is blurred,
Hark to the singing legions of the year!

Always I find gain in lamented loss;
Some treasure in the beaten path I tread;
And that alone survives which bears a cross
Branded by some hot trial that is dead.
Last night as I was weeping someone cried:
"Love cannot live save love be crucified!"