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 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
394
COULD THIS THING BE?
Could she come in to-night, from her far place,
And sit beside me in the firelight here,
And all be as it was that other year,
When love made fair and fragrant all our ways
With such rare flowers as hearts may fitly praise,
Before the day that brought our heavy cheer,
And overthrew all that we held most dear,
Whereof the memory only now dismays,—
And sit beside me in the firelight here,
And all be as it was that other year,
When love made fair and fragrant all our ways
With such rare flowers as hearts may fitly praise,
Before the day that brought our heavy cheer,
And overthrew all that we held most dear,
Whereof the memory only now dismays,—
Could this thing be, how should the dreary room
Where now I dwell with Sorrow, my pale mate,
Like some sweet sudden rose burst into bloom,
And the heart's music grow articulate,
And joy-bells ring, and the loud cannon boom,
As when a queen sweeps through her realm in state!
Where now I dwell with Sorrow, my pale mate,
Like some sweet sudden rose burst into bloom,
And the heart's music grow articulate,
And joy-bells ring, and the loud cannon boom,
As when a queen sweeps through her realm in state!
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |