Love Is More Cruel than Death

Maurice Browne

For H

If your heart's desire were an apple,
 I would place it in your hand;
From the tree of life I would pluck it
 In Eden land.
If your heart's desire were a sword of steel,
  I would fashion it in the flame
And inlay letters upon it
 And a star's name.

If your heart's desire were carven jade,
  I would grave for you with my pen
The learning and loneliness and yearning
 And wisdom of men.

But your heart's desire is my friend,
  My mother's son, the brother of me,
The friend I wear in my heart,
  For fair is he;
He is fair, but far to seek,
 And free.

And I have no power in my hands,
  No help, no healing, no gift for you,
Nothing, nothing, save no word spoken
  Between us two.