Love born from the hell

Love's not time's fool, 

though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

But this true love of the mind cannot exist between two souls, until
they are purified from the grossness of earthly passion: they must pass
through a time of trial and conflict first; in the language of religion
they must be converted or born again. Then they would see the world
transformed into a scene of heavenly beauty; a divine idea would
accompany them in all their thoughts and actions.