Temperance is defined as “moderation or voluntary self-restraint.” So is it possible for love to be like that? Isn’t true love meant to be chaste (pure) really? It is characterized as “the control over excess… through chastity, modesty, humility, prudence, self-regulation, forgiveness and mercy; each of these involves restraining an excess of some impulse, such as sexual desire, vanity, or anger.”
Pablo Neruda’s “Sonnet XVII” expresses something like it.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. ”
As one of the cardinal virtues, is temperance a characteristic of true love?
Think about it in a poem.