Poetry: A Magazine of Verse
This very moment while I shake
Your hand, my friend,
She welcomes you as well as I,
And laughs with me because I cried
For her . . . . People would think me crazy if I told.
But something in what you said made me bold
To let you meet my bride!"
It was not madness. David's eye
Was clear and open-seeing.
His life
Had seen in his young wife,
As mine had seen when Celia died,
The secret of God’s being.
V
Celia, perhaps the few
Whom I shall tell of you
Will see with me your beauty who are dead,
Will hear with me your voice and what it said!
