A TRIAD

A TRIAD

Three sang of love together: one with lips

     Crimson, with cheeks and bosom in a glow,

Flushed to the yellow hair and finger-tips;

     And one there sang who soft and smooth as snow

     Bloomed like a tinted hyacinth at a show;

And one was blue with famine after love,

     Who like a harpstring snapped rang harsh and low

The burden of what those were singing of.

One shamed herself in love; one temperately

     Grew gross in soulless love, a sluggish wife;

One famished died for love. Thus two of three

     Took death for love and won him after strife;

One droned in sweetness like a fattened bee:

     All on the threshold, yet all short of life.

Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones THE TEMPLE OF LOVE Oil on canvas. Date not known Tate, London

Эдуард Коули Бёрн-Джонс ХРАМ ЛЮБВИ Холст, масло. Дата неизвестна Галерея Тейт, Лондон