Power of Love plays so soft, teen feet soon come to halt,
Their hair raised as if charged by some voltaic fault;
Nonchalance swift laid by, I scan quick round the room,
My eyes spark as you stand in dank hall’s schoolroom gloom.
When I see your taut form, my small heart surges forth,
And batters me upwards; my future points North;
But gaze fix’d well beyond, on your lofty prize cocked,
My head wilts once more South, the night’s budding dream rocked.
Against you, against me, I have laboured in vain,
When not here, prospers hope; when here, hope’s crushed in grain.
The slim roots still to come will vault strong through, elsewhere;
But for this cruel first time they are singed with despair.