Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/42

14 The Valley of the Shadow, without rue,

If thou couldst gain the goal, Love, even so.

I would not win thee to a fruitful woe;

To best of earth or best beyond the blue.

And most of all would thy true lover scorn

To win thee to himself; thou shalt be free

To have or hate! But O, my golden morn!

Behold thy lover's passionate bravery—

Mighty, unresting, stedfast, heaven-born—

To win thee to the light, which is—to thee!

V—"I WILL BE BRAVE FOR THEE"

VI—"LOVE ME NOT, LOVE, FOR THAT I FIRST LOVED THEE"

me not, Love, for that I first loved thee;

Nor love me, Love, for thy sweet pity's sake,

In knowledge of the mortal pain and ache

Which is the fruit of love's blood-veinèd tree.