University of Virginia Library


83

SHALL NOT THE FUTURE?

Shall not the future listen to this strain
Of thee the spirit-woman, loved by me?
Shall not our music sound beside the sea
Of life, long after we are no more twain,
But one in death's inseparable domain?
Shall not they wonder at thy purity
Of dazzling wings, and neck without a stain?
Shall not thy laughter mix with girlhood's glee?
Oh, let it be so—let the future know
Thy spirit-beauty: let the rose unborn
Copy, Gertrude, thy red lips in the morn,
And let thy flying feet, like flakes of snow,
Descend upon the unquivering grasses fair;
In heaven a white rose, plucked in England, wear.