Song

"Oh! Love," they said, "is King of Kings,
  And Triumph is his crown.
Earth fades in flame before his wings,
  And Sun and Moon bow down."—
But that, I knew, would never do;
  And Heaven is all too high.
So whenever I meet a Queen, I said,
  I will not catch her eye.

"Oh! Love," they said, and "Love," they said,
  "The gift of Love is this;
A crown of thorns about thy head,
  And vinegar to thy kiss!"—
But Tragedy is not for me;
  And I'm content to be gay.
So whenever I spied a Tragic Lady,
  I went another way.

And so I never feared to see
  You wander down the street,
Or come across the fields to me
  On ordinary feet.
For what they'd never told me of,
  And what I never knew;
It was that all the time, my love,
  Love would be merely you.

Published in The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke

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