"To The Unattainable"

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Title:     "To The Unattainable"
Author: Laurence Hope [More Titles by Hope]

Oh, that my blood were water, thou athirst,
And thou and I in some far Desert land,
How would I shed it gladly, if but first
It touched thy lips, before it reached the sand.

Once,--Ah, the Gods were good to me,--I threw
Myself upon a poison snake, that crept
Where my Beloved--a lesser love we knew
Than this which now consumes me wholly--slept.

But thou; Alas, what can I do for thee?
By Fate, and thine own beauty, set above
The need of all or any aid from me,
Too high for service, as too far for love.

[The end]
Laurence Hope's poem: "To The Unattainable"

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