i choose life or life choose me?

One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it,
One felling too falsely disdain'd
For thee to disdain it;
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And pity from thee more dear 
Than that from another.

I can gine not what men call love:
But wilt thou accept not 
The worship the haert lifts above
And the heavens reject not,
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?