Chapter XXXVIII: Conflict

Why should a woman find her dream of love Irised by the strange ecstasy of Art? Is not Eros a terrible lord enough That she must bear both Hunters of the heart, The Golden Archer and the Scarlet too? Then bitter anomalies annul her choir Of puissant and subtle instincts, rended through By gorgeous dualisms of vain-desire. For Love outrages Art's clear disciplines, And Art lures Love to guilt of cryptic treason: The spirit of imagination pines, Captive in webs of exquisite unreason. Alas for this translated soul of hers, The rose's, that must be the garlander's!