For love, brave knights will slay a dragon down

And damsels drink love’s venom at its loss,

Proud wedlock shatters with a single frown’

While jeweled crowns for marriage bonds are tossed.

There regal souls fall slave to servitude,

And iron hearts may bleed to stem a tear;

The mighty mire themselves in bitter feud,

That sylphs remain a sovereigns’ souvenir.

What essence rules within such coercive power

That mortal minds might court so grave a bane—

To sojourn briefly, loving for an hour,

All utter worth there pledged, yet for what gain?

There stands no greater force of blind command

Then that which moves—or stays—a lover’s hand.