The love in her eyes lay sleeping, <br /> As stars that unconscious shine, <br /> Till, under the pink lids peeping, <br /> I wakened it up with mine; <br />And we pledged our troth to a brimming oath <br /> In a bumper of blood-red wine. <br /> Alas! too well I know <br /> That it happened long ago; <br /> Those memories yet remain, <br /> And sting, like throbs of pain, <br /> And I'm alone below, <br />But still the red wine warms, and the rosy goblets glow; <br /> If love be the heart's enslaver, <br /> 'Tis wine that subdues the head. <br /> But which has the fairest flavour, <br /> And whose is the soonest shed? <br /> Wine waxes in power in that desolate hour <br /> When the glory of love is dead. <br /> Love lives on beauty's ray, <br /> But night comes after day, <br /> And when the exhausted sun <br /> His high career has run, <br /> The stars behind him stay, <br />And then the light that lasts consoles our darkening way. <br /> When beauty and love are over, <br /> And passion has spent its rage, <br /> And the spectres of memory hover, <br /> And glare on life's lonely stage, <br /> 'Tis wine that remains to kindle the veins <br /> And strengthen the steps of age. <br /> Love takes the taint of years, <br /> And beauty disappears, <br /> But wine in worth matures <br /> The longer it endures, <br /> And more divinely cheers, <br />And ripens with the suns and mellows with the spheres.<br /><br />William Forster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-in-her-eyes-lay-sleeping/
