Chapter XXXII: The Sum of Things

TO ANOTHER WOMAN

Well, I am tired, who fared to divers ends, And you are not, who kept the beaten path; But mystic Vintagers have been my friends, Even Love and Death and Sin and Pride and Wrath. Wounded am I, you are immaculate; But great Adventurers were my starry guides: From God's Pavilion to the Flaming Gate Have I not ridden as an immortal rides? And your dry soul crumbles by dim degrees To final dust quite happily, it appears, While all the sweetness of her nectaries Can only stand within my heart like tears. O throbbing wounds, rich tears, and splendour spent,-- Ye are all my spoil, and I am well content.