Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/110



[Follows him awhile with his eyes.]

Never did word so sorely prove The smirch of lies, as this word Love: With devilish craft, where will is frail, Men lay Love over, as a veil, And cunningly conceal thereby That all their life is coquetry. Whose path's the steep and perilous slope, Let him but love,—and he may shirk it; If he prefer Sin's easy circuit, Let him but love,—he still may hope; If God he seeks, but fears the fray, Let him but love,—'tis straight his prey; If with wide-open eyes he err, Let him but love,—there's safety there!

Yes, it is false: yet still I fall Questioning: Is it, after all?

One point's omitted: First the Will Law's thirst for righteousness must still. You must first</g> will! Not only things Attainable, in more or less, Nor only where the action brings Some hardship and some weariness; No, you must will with flashing eyes Your way through all earth's agonies. It is not martyrdom to toss In anguish on the deadly cross: But to have <g>will'd</g> to perish so, To <g>will</g> it through each bodily throe, To will it with still-tortured mind, This, only this, redeems mankind.