HEART THROBS
Oh, to know the whimsy of one’s heart
To track with line and graph each fit and start
To share its blooming beauty with but one
To watch it sadly weep in setting sun
And rise again in beauty self-renewed
The fervor of its passion now subdued
As noon calls forth the heat of flameless dreams
Its shadows disappear ‘mid loving’s schemes
Oh, heart, oh tarnished sword of loving’s plight
Would thou deny the heart its right to fight
To sally forth beneath its healing scars
To view them as the moon’s companion stars
Stand fast and hurl love’s gauntlet at the dark
For love is not the fire but its spark
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