by Luis G. Dato
Then let us now our love, dear, consummate
And reap our roses while they are in bloom,
Soon, ere we know it, we shall each make room
For others and for us it will be late,
Nor at love’s altar let us immolate
Ourselves and rise above impending doom,
Despite the ever-nearness of the tomb,
And, time defying, soar to Heaven’s gate.
For we are mortals, in our veins the blood
That runs in every artery and vein,
Tumultuous beats not ever or holds good
Howe’er we would, nor time’s assault be vain,
Love let us have, O love me, dear, please God,
While on the earth love’s flowers still remain!