 | The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith |  |
Then he: What mean you? Loss is long since lost,
And gain can never be from her to me.
You knew her not as I did. What remains
When bubbles burst i' the hand? not even the glitter.
Is she a maiden still, and fancy-free?
Why, so am I, and free of her for ever.
Is she a widow? I should gain a loss,
Indeed, to be her second. Is that your riddle?
Or is she mated to a life-long sorrow?
What else could come of such a way as hers?
And gain can never be from her to me.
You knew her not as I did. What remains
When bubbles burst i' the hand? not even the glitter.
Is she a maiden still, and fancy-free?
Why, so am I, and free of her for ever.
Is she a widow? I should gain a loss,
Indeed, to be her second. Is that your riddle?
267
What else could come of such a way as hers?
| The Poetical Works of Walter C. Smith | |