A BRIEF BIBLIOGRAPHY
7
What though her voice rings clearly through
A nightly watch I gladly keep,
No wish have I to start anew
Heart fountains that have ceased to leap,
Here face to face with different days
And later things that plead for love,
It would be worse than wrong to raise
A phantom far too fain to move.
A nightly watch I gladly keep,
No wish have I to start anew
Heart fountains that have ceased to leap,
Here face to face with different days
And later things that plead for love,
It would be worse than wrong to raise
A phantom far too fain to move.
But, Rose Lorraine—ah, Rose Lorraine,
I'll whisper now where no one hears,
If you should chance to meet again
The man you kissed in soft dead years,
Just say for once, "He suffered much,"
And add to this—"His fate was worst
Because of me—my voice my touch"
There is no passion like the first.
I'll whisper now where no one hears,
If you should chance to meet again
The man you kissed in soft dead years,
Just say for once, "He suffered much,"
And add to this—"His fate was worst
Because of me—my voice my touch"
There is no passion like the first.
If I that breathe your slow sweet name,
As one breathes low notes on a flute,
Have vexed your peace with word of blame,
The phrase is dead, the lips are mute.
But when I turn towards the wall
In days of storm—in nights of rain,
I often wish you would recall
Your tender speeches, Rose Lorraine.
As one breathes low notes on a flute,
Have vexed your peace with word of blame,
The phrase is dead, the lips are mute.
But when I turn towards the wall
In days of storm—in nights of rain,
I often wish you would recall
Your tender speeches, Rose Lorraine.
Because you see I thought them true
And did not count you self-deceived,
And gave myself in all to you.
And looked on love as Life achieved.
Then came the sudden bitter change,
The fastened Ups, the dumb despair,
The first few weeks were very strange,
And long and sad and hard to bear.
And did not count you self-deceived,
And gave myself in all to you.
And looked on love as Life achieved.
Then came the sudden bitter change,
The fastened Ups, the dumb despair,
The first few weeks were very strange,
And long and sad and hard to bear.
No woman lives with power to burst
My passion's bonds and set me free,
For Rose is last where Rose was first,
And only Rose is fair to me.
The faintest memory of her face,
That wilful face that hurt me so,
Is followed by a fiery trace
That Rose Lorraine must never.
My passion's bonds and set me free,
For Rose is last where Rose was first,
And only Rose is fair to me.
The faintest memory of her face,
That wilful face that hurt me so,
Is followed by a fiery trace
That Rose Lorraine must never.
