Robert Laurence Binyon

Not Even Love

Dear child, thou know’st, I blame not thee;
Thou too, I know, hast shared the smart.
Neither did wrong; ’twas only she,
Nature, that moulded us apart.
 
But not to have sinned, in Nature’s eyes
I find a brittle plea to trust:
She punishes the just unwise
More hardly than the wise unjust.
 
She placed our souls, like Heaven’s lone spheres,
In separate paths, no power can move:
O truth too heart—breaking for tears!
Not even Love, not even Love!
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