102
A WALL BETWEEN.
But when the hand we bind
So that it cannot reach out anywhere,
Then find, or, sadder, fancy that we find,
The ring is not true gold, you do not care;—
These tragedies writ in wedding rings
Are common, tiresome things.
So that it cannot reach out anywhere,
Then find, or, sadder, fancy that we find,
The ring is not true gold, you do not care;—
These tragedies writ in wedding rings
Are common, tiresome things.
On earth there was one man,—
There were no men. They all had faded through
His shadow. Surely, where our grief began,
In that old garden, he, that one of two,
Looked not to Eve, before the Fall,
So much the lord of all
There were no men. They all had faded through
His shadow. Surely, where our grief began,
In that old garden, he, that one of two,
Looked not to Eve, before the Fall,
So much the lord of all
And yet he said———I crave
Your patience. I will not forget to die.
And there is no remembrance in the grave;
That comforts one. Better it is to lie
Not knowing thistles grow above,
Than to remember love.
Your patience. I will not forget to die.
And there is no remembrance in the grave;
That comforts one. Better it is to lie
Not knowing thistles grow above,
Than to remember love.
. . . Now you may call my friends,—
Ah, my sweet friends. They whispered just a word
Or two last night here by me. To what ends
Ah, my sweet friends. They whispered just a word
Or two last night here by me. To what ends
