 | Poems : medley and Palestina |  |
68
The Same in the Ending.
Our eyes greet often and often,
Yet know each other no better,
Though sometimes hers seemed to soften
When sudden and near I met her.
Yet know each other no better,
Though sometimes hers seemed to soften
When sudden and near I met her.
And once I thought she grew paler
Because I approached too boldly.
What folly! No heartbeat would fail her,
Though I slept starkly and coldly.
Because I approached too boldly.
What folly! No heartbeat would fail her,
Though I slept starkly and coldly.
No doubt 'twould waken her scorning
To know that such fancies cheer me;
To know that I rise each morning
From visions throning her near me;
To know that such fancies cheer me;
To know that I rise each morning
From visions throning her near me;
To know that throbbing and humming
And dizziness stir my senses
When far off I see her coming
And hope for one of her glances.
And dizziness stir my senses
When far off I see her coming
And hope for one of her glances.
What could she care for a stranger,
Grave, silent, passing in hurry,
Whose love would be but a danger,
Whose gaze perhaps is a worry?
Grave, silent, passing in hurry,
Whose love would be but a danger,
Whose gaze perhaps is a worry?
Farewell! We part without meeting;
Yet the senseless word rings sadly.
Farewell! 'Tis my only greeting
To one I might have loved madly.
Yet the senseless word rings sadly.
Farewell! 'Tis my only greeting
To one I might have loved madly.
69
With tears it was felt and written;
Alas! it could not be spoken.
Years flitted; those hearts were smitten
By others; by others broken.
Alas! it could not be spoken.
Years flitted; those hearts were smitten
By others; by others broken.
'Twas all the same in the ending;
'Twas only sobbing and sighing;
Their smiles were naught but pretending;
Their first true gladness was dying.
'Twas only sobbing and sighing;
Their smiles were naught but pretending;
Their first true gladness was dying.
'Twas all the same in the sorrow
As though they had tower'd in sinning;
And if God's to-day had no morrow,
His smile were scarcely worth winning.
As though they had tower'd in sinning;
And if God's to-day had no morrow,
His smile were scarcely worth winning.
| Poems : medley and Palestina | |