Chapter 22
Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, Where, that comes in, that shall not go again. Love sells the proud heart's citadel to fate. They have known shame, who love and loved. Even then, when two mouths, thirsty each for each, Find slaking, and agony's slaking,
And agonies forgot, and hush the crying Of credulous hearts in heaven, Such are but taking their own poor dreams Within their arms, and lying each in his lonely night, Each with a ghost. Some share that night, but they know love grows colder, Grows false and dull, that was so long ago.
Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder, But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss. All this is love, and all love is but this.
