Modern Love XXIX: Am I Failing

 Am I failing ? For no longer can I cast 
A glory round about this head of gold.
 
Glory she wears, but springing from the mould; 
Not like the consecration of the Past! 
Is my soul beggared? Something more than earth 
I cry for still: I cannot be at peace 
In having Love upon a' mortal lease.
 
I cannot take the woman at her worth! 
Where is the ancient wealth wherewith I clothed 
Our human nakedness, and could endow 
With spiritual splendour a white brow 
That else had grinned at me the fact I loathed ? 
A kiss is but a kiss now! and no wave 
Of a great flood that whirls me to the sea.
 
But, as you will! we'll sit contentedly, 
And eat our pot of honey on the grave.

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