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3. | [III. Yes; though the brine may from the desert deep] |
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Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman | ||
201
[III. Yes; though the brine may from the desert deep]
Yes; though the brine may from the desert deepRun itself sweet before it finds the foam,
Oh! what for him—the deep heart once a home
For love and light—is left?—to walk and weep;
Still, with astonished sorrow, watch to keep
On his dead day; he weeps, and knows his doom,
Yet standeth stunned; as one who climbs a steep,
And dreaming softly of the cottage-room,
The faces round the porch, the rose in showers,—
Gains the last height between his heart and it;
And, from the windows where his children sleep,
Sees the red fire fork; or, later come,
Finds, where he left his home, a smouldering pit,—
Blackness and scalding stench, for love and flowers!
Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman | ||