o love, i complain - gustav holst lyrics
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o love, i complain
complain of thee often
because thou dost soften
my being to pain:
thou makest me fear
the mind that createth
that loves not nor hateth
in justice austere;
who, ere he make one
with millions toyeth
and lightly destroyeth
whate’er is begun
an’ wer’t not for thee
my glorious passion
my heart i could fashion
to sternness, as he
but thee, love, he made
lest man should defy him
connive and outvie him
and not be afraid:
nay, thee, love, hе gave
his terrors to cover
and turn to a lovеr
his insolent slave
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