Equal Love.

Loves die !” they say. Love, so say we,1
Of all the loves mere chance inspired.2
Joy’s shadow is satiety ;3
Too soon the unequal hands are free,4
The drooped hand loosed—the raised hand tired.5
How soon made free—grown sad too soon ;6
These from their several valley-plains7
Wonder why life is out of tune,8
And why of all the wealth of June9
Only some withered rose remains.10
But we, who free and equal stand11
Upon our mountain, and are still,12
With level eyes and steadfast hand13
We see the old loves and understand14
Why they died and this never will.15