Page:The Broken Wing.djvu/124

 8. Devotion

my flesh to feed your dogs if you choose, Water your garden-trees with my blood if you will, Turn my heart into ashes, my dreams into dust— Am I not yours, O Love, to cherish or kill?

Strangle my soul and fling it into the fire! Why should my true love falter or fear or rebel? Love, I am yours to lie in your breast like a flower, Or burn like a weed for your sake in the flame of hell.