Poetry

THE QUEST OF LOVE.

Joaquin Miller


  • The quest of love? Tis the quest of troubles;
  • Tis the wind through the woods of the Oregon.
  • Sit down, sit down, for the world goes on
  • Precisely the same; and the rainbow bubbles
  • Of love, they gather, or break, or blow,
  • Whether you bother your brain or no;
  • And for all your troubles and all your tears,
  • Twere just the same in a hundred years.

  • By the populous land, or the lonesome sea,
  • Lo! these were the gifts of the gods to men,
  • Three miserable gifts, and only three:
  • To love, to forget, and to die-and then?
  • To love in peril, and bitter-sweet pain,
  • And then, forgotten, lie down and die:
  • One moment of sun, whole seasons of rain,
  • Then night is roll'd to the door of the sky.

  • To love? To sit at her feet and to weep;
  • To climb to her face, hide your face in her hair;
  • To nestle you there like a babe in its sleep,
  • And, too, like a babe, to believe it stings there!
  • To love! Tis to suffer, "Lie close to my breast,
  • Like a fair ship in haven, O darling!" I cried.
  • "Your round arms outreaching to heaven for rest
  • Make signal to death." Death came, and love died.
  • To forget? To forget, mount horse and clutch sword;
  • Take ship and make sail to the ice-prison'd seas,
  • Write books and preach lies; range lands; or go hoard
  • A grave full of gold, and buy wines and drink lees:
  • Then die; and die cursing, and call it a prayer!
  • Is earth but a top—a boy-god's delight,
  • To be spun for his pleasure, while man's despair
  • Breaks out like a wail of the damn'd through the night ?

  • Sit down in the darkness and weep with me
  • On the edge of the world. Lo, love lies dead!
  • And the earth and the sky, and the sky and the sea,
  • Seem shutting together as a book that is read.
  • Yet what have we learn'd? We laugh'd with delight
  • In the morning at school, and kept toying with all
  • Time's silly playthings. Now, wearied ere night,
  • We must cry for dark-mother, her cradle the pall.

  • 'Twere better blow trumpets gainst love, keep away
  • That traitorous urchin with fire or shower,
  • Than have him come near you for one little hour.
  • Take physic, consult with your doctor, as you
  • Would fight a contagion; carry all through
  • The populous day some drug that smells loud,
  • As you pass on your way, or make way through the crowd.
  • Talk war, or carouse; only keep off the day
  • Of his coming, with every hard means in your way.

  • Blow smoke in the eyes of the world, and laugh
  • With the broad-chested men, as you loaf at your inn,
  • As you crowd to your inn from your saddle and quaff
  • Red wine from a horn; while your dogs at your feet,
  • Your slim spotted dogs, like the fawn, and as fleet,
  • Crouch patiently by and look up at your face,
  • As they wait for the call of the horn to the chase;
  • For you shall not suffer, and you shall not sin,
  • Until peace goes out just as love comes in.

  • Love horses and hounds, meet many good men
  • Yea, men are most proper, and keep you from care.
  • There is strength in a horse. There is pride in his will;
  • It is sweet to look back as you climb the steep hill.
  • There is room. You have movement of limb; you have air,
  • Have the smell of the wood, of the grasses; and then
  • What comfort to rest, as you lie thrown full length
  • All night and alone, with your fists full of strength!
  • Go away, go away with your bitter-sweet pain
  • Of love; for love is the story of troubles,
  • Of troubles and love, that travel together
  • The round world round. Behold the bubbles
  • Of love! Then troubles and turbulent weather.
  • Why, man had all Eden! Then love, then Cain!