Nectar and Blood

If I should worship at thine ancient shrine,
Where thy good sons, incensed by love of war,
Now clamor, as their fathers did of yore⁠—
If I should sacrifice what is not mine,
Nor any living god’s, nor even thine⁠—
If for the sake of honor I must pour
This cup of life upon thy barren shore,
How will it fare then with my love divine?

No! let thy sons go forth to burn and slay:
Let them for love of thee and glory smear
And tear the love of all that’s pure and dear;
Let them this loveless love in rage display;
I can not join them; no, I can not cheer
As they beneath my window pass today.

What care I for the tears the maudlin crowd
Sheds o’er my bier⁠—for praise of Church and State⁠—
For glory that remains within the gate
Of worldly things⁠—for men’s esteem avowed⁠—
For freedom that is not with love endowed⁠—
For fame that lingers oft and comes too late,
When these the sorrow of my love create
And haunt her with the shadow of my shroud?

How cowardly, self-centered have I grown⁠—
How dead to true and noble feelings all?
Why not, when they the human soul enthrall⁠—
Why not, when they the beast in man enthrone?
I cling to love, and with love I will fall,
Unwept, unsung, unhonored and unknown.

What will these kings and war-lords of the land
And all their ministers of murder fell
Do with their arms and fleets⁠—all tools of hell⁠—
If every son of man resolve to stand
A-wielding, king-like, in his home the wand,
Beside the ones he loves and honors well?
Can force this gentle host of peace compel,
When loving hearts their amber wings expand?

O love, though hounded, outlawed we may be⁠—
Though Slander, dagger-drawn, be on our trail⁠—
Though Hatred with her hydra tongues should rail
At us, and though left sinking in the sea
Of ostracism, ay, never will I quail,
But will now and forever cling to thee.