"
"How do you know?" I asked impatiently; "was not this body good which is
now lost to the world?"
As a fretful child hurting its own mother, I tried to wreck all the
shelters that ever I had, in and about me, and cried, "This world is
treacherous."
Suddenly I felt a voice saying--"Ungrateful!"
I looked out of the window, and a reproach seemed to come from the
star-sprinkled night,--"You pour out into the void of my absence your faith
in the truth that I came!"
23
The river is grey and the air dazed with blown sand.
On a morning of dark disquiet, when the birds are mute and their nests
shake in the gust, I sit alone and ask myself, "Where is she?"
The days have flown wherein we sat too near each other; we laughed and
jested, and the awe of love's majesty found no words at our meetings.
I made myself small, and she trifled away every moment with pelting talk.
To-day I wish in vain that she were by me, in the gloom of the coming
storm, to sit in the soul's solitude.
24
The name she called me by, like a flourishing jasmine, covered the whole
seventeen years of our love.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49