By Katherine Colborn
The aches that love will cause man’s heart are great,
But none so hard to bear as time, the fiend
Too late be loves that grow from biased hate
Too swift are those which through mere lust are dreamed
Like any two with love and lust be wild,
Their questions posed are always then the same:
How can we make our fired hearts be mild?
When is it that, for sure, we’ll know love’s name?
So tied to earth are we, we cannot part
From hunger, born of law-incented haze.
In such an act, we do deprive our heart
A love which only time and God can raise.
True love will have no time of death or birth-
And should it not be true, then chained to earth.