HUSBAND OF WIFE.
I WILL not tell her of my past.
Why read a worn-out book again?
Why trouble her with useless pain,
Whose love doth fill my soul at last?
Why read a worn-out book again?
Why trouble her with useless pain,
Whose love doth fill my soul at last?
To tell would wrong her. High above
All other love my life has known,
She dwells, as stars whose beauty shone
Upon our first warm kiss of love.
All other love my life has known,
She dwells, as stars whose beauty shone
Upon our first warm kiss of love.
I did not live before she wove
Her life about my life; this joy
Proves former passion was alloy,
A gilded counterfeit of love.
Her life about my life; this joy
Proves former passion was alloy,
A gilded counterfeit of love.
No shade shall ever come between,
No haunting memory beset;
They noblest live who can forget;
Her heart shall feel no sad—"has been."
No haunting memory beset;
They noblest live who can forget;
Her heart shall feel no sad—"has been."