Луиза Сара Бевингтон (Louisa Sarah Bevington)

Love’s Depth

LOVE'S height is easy scaling; skies allure;
Who feels the day-warmth needs must find it fair;
Strong eagles ride the lofty sunlit air,
Risking no rivals while their wings endure.
Yet is thy noblest still thy least secure,
And failing thee--shall then thy love despair?
Shall not thy heart more holily prepare
Some depth unfathomable,--perfect-pure?

Say that to thee there come love's dreadful call
The downward swiftness of thy Best to see;
Say that he sin or sicken, what of thee?
Are thine arms deeper yet to stay his fall?
Scarcely love's utmost may in heaven be;
To hell it reacheth so 'tis love at all.

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