My Love
By George Sterling
In woman's dark and tedious war with Fate,
Abide three comrades for her spirit mild:
The mother, and the sweetheart, and the child.
Seldom the love maternal turns to hate,
The child's well nigh as seldom; but the mate
Stands oft with forces passionate and wild,
Not always to renouncement reconciled;
Not always loyal and compassionate.
All of a mother's love I cannot give,
Yet somewhat of thy child I fain would be,
And as thy faithful lover always live,
Be thou my star, and I will seek thy rays!
Grant thou my heart a service but to thee,
Thro' nights of rapture and achieving days!
Glen Ellen.