'Oh, where are you going with your love-locks flowing <br />On the west wind blowing along this valley track?' <br />'The downhill path is easy, come with me an' it please ye, <br />We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.' <br /> <br />So they two went together in glowing August weather, <br />The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right; <br />And dear she was to doat on, her swift feet seemed to float on <br />The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight. <br /> <br />'Oh, what is that in heaven where grey cloud-flakes are seven, <br />Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?' <br />'Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,— <br />An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.' <br /> <br />'Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly, <br />Their scent comes rich and sickly?'—'A scaled and hooded worm.' <br />'Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?' <br />'Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits th' eternal term.' <br /> <br />'Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again, false and fleetest: <br />This way whereof thou weetest I fear is hell's own track.' <br />'Nay, too steep for hill-mounting,—nay, too late for cost-counting: <br />This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.'<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/amor-mundi/
