 | Leaves of life |  |
172
THE LOVERS' CHOICE.
We walked, we two, in the early May,
Ere yet the oaks or the elms were green,
Hand in hand by a pleasant way,
Fresh-leafed hawthorn hedges between.
The sky seemed high as our hopes and dreams,
Our love was deep as the evening's peace;
And we said: ‘Our lives, where our love's light gleams,
What shall we do for the world with these?
Ere yet the oaks or the elms were green,
Hand in hand by a pleasant way,
Fresh-leafed hawthorn hedges between.
The sky seemed high as our hopes and dreams,
Our love was deep as the evening's peace;
And we said: ‘Our lives, where our love's light gleams,
What shall we do for the world with these?
‘We cannot sing and we cannot paint,
In science and letters we have no skill,
But we love sweet song, though our voice be faint,
And we love Art well, though we serve her ill.
And to love, it seems, is all we may do—
To love fair dreams, it is all we can!’
And as we spake, we came upon two
Who sat by the roadway—a woman and man:
In science and letters we have no skill,
But we love sweet song, though our voice be faint,
And we love Art well, though we serve her ill.
And to love, it seems, is all we may do—
To love fair dreams, it is all we can!’
And as we spake, we came upon two
Who sat by the roadway—a woman and man:
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A man and a woman, ragged and rough,
Dirty and desolate, idle and sad—
Faces lowering and coarse enough—
Bitter and brutal, base and bad.
They stupidly stared as we turned to pass
Sadly and silently, she and I,
When, with clouds of dust that made gray the grass,
A man and a woman came riding by:
Dirty and desolate, idle and sad—
Faces lowering and coarse enough—
Bitter and brutal, base and bad.
They stupidly stared as we turned to pass
Sadly and silently, she and I,
When, with clouds of dust that made gray the grass,
A man and a woman came riding by:
A woman lovely, weary and sweet,
Weary as he who sat by her side,—
From her proud fair face to her dainty feet
Lapped in luxury, clothed in pride.
Too rich for goodness—for joy too rich,
Kept warm from want in a shell of gold,
And the other woman, who crouched in the ditch,
Cursed the carriage as by it rolled.
Weary as he who sat by her side,—
From her proud fair face to her dainty feet
Lapped in luxury, clothed in pride.
Too rich for goodness—for joy too rich,
Kept warm from want in a shell of gold,
And the other woman, who crouched in the ditch,
Cursed the carriage as by it rolled.
She cursed the two who went smoothly by
And idly noted the filthy tramp,
‘A pest of decent society—
A leper to drive from the social camp.’
Fools, fools alike! The sneering pair
And the cursing wretch in the wayside ditch!
O, you in your carriage, who put you there?
Whose poverty pays life's price for the rich?
And idly noted the filthy tramp,
‘A pest of decent society—
A leper to drive from the social camp.’
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And the cursing wretch in the wayside ditch!
O, you in your carriage, who put you there?
Whose poverty pays life's price for the rich?
The rich man wearies in all his state,
The poor man's heaven is vice and drink;
Each weaves his own and the other's fate,
One cannot think, and one will not think;
Each is of each a cause and a part,
And without the one must the other cease;
Here is the work of our lives, my Heart,
To loose the fetters of such as these.
The poor man's heaven is vice and drink;
Each weaves his own and the other's fate,
One cannot think, and one will not think;
Each is of each a cause and a part,
And without the one must the other cease;
Here is the work of our lives, my Heart,
To loose the fetters of such as these.
In the green hedgerow sang a happy thrush,
The east grew dappled with dreams of rain,
The red sun flamed through a blackthorn bush,
And the tramps slouched off down the narrow lane—
Slouched through the beautiful world of flowers,
The world of remembrance, and love, and faith;
Outrage to man, to this earth of ours,
A walking horror, a living death.
The east grew dappled with dreams of rain,
The red sun flamed through a blackthorn bush,
And the tramps slouched off down the narrow lane—
Slouched through the beautiful world of flowers,
The world of remembrance, and love, and faith;
Outrage to man, to this earth of ours,
A walking horror, a living death.
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Then we said, ‘Behold, we are young and weak,
And our only strength is the love we bear,
And this is our work, to see and to speak
This message, always and everywhere:
“If some are rich, then must some be poor—
If none were rich, then none poor need be!”’
Ah, love, this key will unlock the door!
The work is ready, for you and me!
And our only strength is the love we bear,
And this is our work, to see and to speak
This message, always and everywhere:
“If some are rich, then must some be poor—
If none were rich, then none poor need be!”’
Ah, love, this key will unlock the door!
The work is ready, for you and me!
| Leaves of life | |