LOVE'S name is easy saying; yet who knows
Love's uttermost, who loves not in his love
The highest he has known, and yet above
That highest vision finds his idol grows?
Safe pinnacle of rapturous repose!
And final agony of gladness! this--
To spend thy conscience glowing in thy kiss,--
Thy soul's high best at one with passion's throes.
No inward half-relentings, nought of rift
'Twixt clay and spirit that should discord make;
But awful, lavish homage, free to take
Only to give the richlier, gift on gift;
No better self made captive for love's sake,
But love upraised to love, that love doth lift.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem