The Bond.

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Love me for Love's sake till the dream is done,
And when we waken let us part for aye!
No bond but this; it is the better way,
For life spun so may easy be unspun,
The gain or loss directly reckoned on
What is and was; since marriage is no more
When either heart is like a sapless core
That has no sense of the maturing sun.
All comes at last to this, and surely we
Shall never waken if the dream is true,
Never put by the heart's reality,
Nor either ever find another who
Shall take from us the tender poesy
Which you have found in me, and I in you.

© Robert Crawford