 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
COMING ROUND.
'T is all right, as I knew it would be by and by;
We have kissed and made up again, Archie and I;
And that quarrel, or nonsense, whatever you will,
I think makes us love more devotedly still.
We have kissed and made up again, Archie and I;
And that quarrel, or nonsense, whatever you will,
I think makes us love more devotedly still.
The trouble was all upon my side, you know;
I 'm exacting sometimes, rather foolishly so;
And let any one tell me the veriest lie
About Archie, I 'm sure to get angry and cry.
I 'm exacting sometimes, rather foolishly so;
And let any one tell me the veriest lie
About Archie, I 'm sure to get angry and cry.
Things will go on between us again just the same,—
For as he explains matters he was n't to blame;
But 't is useless to tell you; I can't make you see
How it was, quite as plainly as he has made me.
For as he explains matters he was n't to blame;
But 't is useless to tell you; I can't make you see
How it was, quite as plainly as he has made me.
You thought “I would make him come round when we met!”
You thought “there were slights I could never forget!”
Oh you did! let me tell you, my dear, to your face,
That your thinking these things does n't alter the case!
You thought “there were slights I could never forget!”
Oh you did! let me tell you, my dear, to your face,
That your thinking these things does n't alter the case!
You “can tell what I said?” I don't wish you to tell!
You know what a temper I have, very well;
That I 'm sometimes unjust to my friends who are best;
But you 've turned against Archie the same as the rest!
You know what a temper I have, very well;
That I 'm sometimes unjust to my friends who are best;
But you 've turned against Archie the same as the rest!
“Why has n't he written? what kept him so still?”—
His silence was sorely against his own will;
He has faults, that I own; but he, he would n't deceive;
He was ill, or was busy,—was both, I believe!
His silence was sorely against his own will;
He has faults, that I own; but he, he would n't deceive;
He was ill, or was busy,—was both, I believe!
323
Did he flirt with that lady? I s'pose I should say,
Why, yes,—when she threw herself right in the way;
He was led off, was foolish, but that is the worst,—
And she was to blame for it all, from the first.
Why, yes,—when she threw herself right in the way;
He was led off, was foolish, but that is the worst,—
And she was to blame for it all, from the first.
And he 's so glad to come back again, and to find
A woman once more with a heart and a mind;
For though others may please and amuse for an hour,
I hold all his future—his life—in my power!
A woman once more with a heart and a mind;
For though others may please and amuse for an hour,
I hold all his future—his life—in my power!
And now, if things don't go persistently wrong,
Our destinies cannot be parted for long:
For he said he would give me his fortune and name,—
Not those words, but he told me what meant just the same.
Our destinies cannot be parted for long:
For he said he would give me his fortune and name,—
Not those words, but he told me what meant just the same.
So what could I do, after all, at the last,
But just ask him to pardon my doubts in the past;
For though he had been wrong, I should still, all the same,
Rather take it myself than let him bear the blame.
But just ask him to pardon my doubts in the past;
For though he had been wrong, I should still, all the same,
Rather take it myself than let him bear the blame.
And, poor fellow! he felt so bad, I could not bear
To drive him by cruelty quite to despair;
And so, to confess the whole truth, when I found
He was willing to do so himself, I came round!
To drive him by cruelty quite to despair;
And so, to confess the whole truth, when I found
He was willing to do so himself, I came round!
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |