_dk@lj

            THE POLE-STAR

            Love is all virtue, since the
            pleasure of love is but love, and the
            pain of love is but love.

            Love taketh no heed of that which
            is not and of that which is.

            Absence exalteth love, and
            presence exalteth love.

            Love moveth ever from height to
            height of ecstasy and faileth never.

            The wings of love droop not with
            time, nor slacken for life or for
            death.

            Love destroyeth self, uniting self
            with that which is not-self, so that
            Love breedeth All and None in
            One.

            Is it not so? . . . No? . . .

            Then thou art not lost in love;
            speak not of love.

            Love Alway Yieldeth: Love Alway
            Hardeneth.

            . . . . . . . . . . May be: I write it but to
            write Her name.

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