Passion

Knowledge yields but little
        That heart and soul be filled.
From objects stark and lifeless
        No noble acts are willed.
But passion is the ether
        By which the cosmos fly;
And courage soars, and armies cheer,
        And mighty anthems rise;
And love professed, and poems penned,
        And songs of beauty sung.
But passion too, that poisoned sword,
        By which great harm is wrung;
Life is lost, and cities felled,
        And horrid acts unspoken;
Hearts are pierced, wounds made deep,
        And bonds of love are broken.
Great peril is in passion,
        Unbridled by fair heart;
But empty, dark and soulless is
        The world without its mark.
We choose the way of passion,
        Amid its strife and storm;
But through the clouds and torrent,
        Resplendent days are born.