Love Is Enough; Or, the Freeing of Pharamond, a Morality

 
9780217863384: Love Is Enough; Or, the Freeing of Pharamond, a Morality

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1873 edition. Excerpt: ... the light I met him, and we wrestled, and great was my might. O great was my joy, though no rest was around me, Though mid wastes of the world were we twain all alone, For methought that I conquered and he knelt and he crowned me, And the driving rain ceased, and the wind ceased to moan, And through clefts of the clouds her planet outshone. O through clefts of the clouds 'gan the world to awaken, And the bitter wind piped, and down drifted the rain, And I was alone--and yet not forsaken, For the grass was untrodden except by my pain: With a Shadow of the Night had I wrestled in vain. And the Shadoiv of the Night and not Love was departed; I was sore, I was weary, yet Love lived to seek; So I scaled the dark mountains, and wandered sad-hearted Over wearier wastes, where e'en sunlight was bleak, With no rest of the night for my soul waxen weak. With no rest of the night; for I waked mid a story Of a land wherein Love is the light and the lord, Where my tale shall be heard, and my wounds gain a glory, And my tears be a treasure to add to the hoard Of pleasure laid up for his people's reward. Ah, pleasure laid up I haste thou onward and listen, for the wind of the waste has no music like this, And not thus do the rocks of the wilderness glisten: With the host of his faithful through sorrow and bliss My Lord goeth forth now, and knows me for his. Enter before the curtain Love, with a cup of bitter drink and his hands bloody. Love. OPHARAMOND, I knew thee brave and strong, And yet how might'st thou live to bear this wrong?--A wandering-tide of three long bitter years, Solaced at whiles by languor of soft tears, By dreams self-wrought of night and sleep and sorrow, Holpen by hope of tears to be tomorrow: Yet all, alas, but wavering memories; No vision...

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