From the recording The Altitudes of Love

This odd little poem reminds me a lot of William Blake, especially the final verses.  Given the imagery of those final verses, I thought it needed to sound a little frightening, or at least disturbing.


The Altitudes of Love
If ever I saw my True-Love
Coming from Pindar Lake
And I in the Hughly Hills above
I’d hasten, for love’s sake,
By the descending roadway;
We’d meet at middle height
Before the slant of the day
Tipped westward toward the night.
For it is not meet in darkness
In a low place to lie down;
Nor where the glow of love is less—
At the luminescent crown
Of a wild, wind-deafened summit—
Than the sun’s that lights the bed.
Let the eunuch and the hermit
Mate with the lightless dead,
And the man that mocks the lightning
Love himself alone;
Let two to each their comfort bring
To a bed not wholly stone
And lie where leaves have dappled
The floor with light and shade
Since the two in the garden grappled
When first the world was made.