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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
Well, this Cain was not content—
He'd got the woman, he'd got Renshent;
But there was one thing he hadn' got,
The woman's love—he hadn' got that—
The bargain! the bargain! she didn' pretend—
A pious friend! a pious friend
Here below, and Heaven above—
And she shivered at the name of love.
Obey him? serve him? so she was doin';
But—love him? That's another tune.
She couldn', it wasn' in her power:
Her love was as dead as a dead flower—
Stick it in the ground! will it grow?
Mould it! water it! just so—
Will it blossom like the rod for Aaron?
Will it bloom and blow like a rose of Sharon?
Its stalk is bruk, its leaves is shed—
Dead! she tould him it was dead.
He'd got the woman, he'd got Renshent;
285
The woman's love—he hadn' got that—
The bargain! the bargain! she didn' pretend—
A pious friend! a pious friend
Here below, and Heaven above—
And she shivered at the name of love.
Obey him? serve him? so she was doin';
But—love him? That's another tune.
She couldn', it wasn' in her power:
Her love was as dead as a dead flower—
Stick it in the ground! will it grow?
Mould it! water it! just so—
Will it blossom like the rod for Aaron?
Will it bloom and blow like a rose of Sharon?
Its stalk is bruk, its leaves is shed—
Dead! she tould him it was dead.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |