Oh Life I Have Taken You For My Lover

Oh, Life, I have taken you for my Lover,

I rent your veils and I found you fair ;

If a fault or failing my eyes discover,

I will not see it; it is not there !

I know, if I knew, I should hold you dearer,

Should understand, if I understood,

For I worship more, as you draw me nearer,

Your reckless Evil, your perfect Good.

In the Jungle gloom, we have watched and waited,

For stealthy Panthers, that prowl by night,

At the end of some weary march, belated,

We heard strange tales by the camp-fire light.

We have lain on the starlit sands, untented,

While low-hung planets rose white and fair,

And in moonlit gardens, silver and scented,

Oh, Life, my Lover, how sweet you were !

Forbidden and barbarous rites were shown us,

In rock-hewn Temples and jungle caves,

And the smoke-wreathed home of the dead has known us,

The burning-ghat by the Ganges waves

Ah, the long, lone ride through the starlit hours,

The long, lone watch on the starlit sea,

And the flame and flush of the morning flowers

When Life, my Lover, was kind to me !

Betimes we were out on the Sea, together;

The vessel raced down the great green slope

Of mountainous waves, in desperate weather ;

The hearts of men were adrift from hope.

As over the deck, in exultant fashion,

The violent water crashed and fell,

I knew, through the joy of your reckless passion,

Agonised fear of the last farewell.

But I follow you always, unresisting,

To lowest depth ; to uttermost brink,

From a thirst like mine there is no desisting

Though given poison for wine to drink.

You may do your utmost, you will not shake me,

Your faith may falter ; my faith is true.

Oh, Life, you may shatter and rend and break me,

All Pain is Pleasure, that springs from you !

In the height and heat of your wildest passion,

You had your uttermost will of me,

And when have I asked for the least compassion ?

A lover loved is a lover free !

Though, with never a word of farewell spoken

In lonely wilds of some Desert place,

You have flung me from you, adrift and broken,

To wait the child of your last embrace.

And never my faith nor my fervour faltered,

Until you turned to my lips again,

When, my eager longing for you unaltered

Your first kiss cancelled my months of pain.

Ah, Life, you may torture my soul, betray me,

The right is yours, as Lover and Lord.

And when in the climax of all, you slay me,

My lips in dying will seek your sword.

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A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Memorials of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 I. Departure From The Vale Of Grasmere, August 1803 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Matthew by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Maternal Grief by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Mark The Concentrated Hazels That Enclose by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lucy by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lucy Gray [or Solitude] by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Louisa: After Accompanying Her On A Mountain Excursion by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Look Now On That Adventurer Who Hath Paid by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• London, 1802 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lines Written On A Blank Leaf In A Copy Of The Author’s Poem “The Excursion,” by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lines Written In Early Spring by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lines Written As A School Exercise At Hawkshead, Anno Aetatis 14 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lines On The Expected Invasion, 1803 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lines Left Upon The Seat Of A Yew-Tree, by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Laodamia by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Lament Of Mary Queen Of Scots by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• It was an April morning: fresh and clear by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• It Is No Spirit Who From Heaven Hath Flown by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• It Is a Beauteous Evening by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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