104
LOOKING INTO THE WELL.
The winds blow over the locusts where
She lies at last, alone and at rest.
Youth and beauty, love and grace,
Wealth and station, joy and pain,—
If she dream at all in that lonely place,
She will know, at last, that her life was vain.
She lies at last, alone and at rest.
Youth and beauty, love and grace,
Wealth and station, joy and pain,—
If she dream at all in that lonely place,
She will know, at last, that her life was vain.
I do not think of her heart's disgrace,
Looking into the waters there,
For I seem to see once more a face
With shy blue eyes and golden hair.
Out among men she walks by my side,
For me she lives whom the world calls dead,—
I talk at night to my shadow bride,
And pillow in dreams her golden head.
They broke her heart,—so the gossips tell,—
Who sold her hand for wealth and a name;
But I see her face in the cool, deep well,
And its innocent beauty is still the same.
Looking into the waters there,
For I seem to see once more a face
With shy blue eyes and golden hair.
Out among men she walks by my side,
For me she lives whom the world calls dead,—
I talk at night to my shadow bride,
And pillow in dreams her golden head.
They broke her heart,—so the gossips tell,—
Who sold her hand for wealth and a name;
But I see her face in the cool, deep well,
And its innocent beauty is still the same.
