So grew my own small life complete, As nature obtained her best of me LII. And to watch you sink by the fireside now LIII. So, earth has gained by one man the more, When autumn comes: which I mean to do One day, as I said before. ANY WIFE TO ANY HUSBAND. I. My love, this is the bitterest, that thou - As thine eyes say, as thy voice breaks to say II. I have but to be by thee, and thy hand Oh, I should fade III. 'tis willed so! Might I save, Gladly I would, whatever beauty gave Joy to thy sense, for that was precious too. It is not to be granted. But the soul Whence the love comes, all ravage leaves that whole; Vainly the flesh fades; soul makes all things new. IV. It would not be because my eye grew dim He gave us from his fire of fires, and bade While that burns on, though all the rest grow dark. V. So, how thou wouldst be perfect, white and clean Alike, this body given to show it by! Oh, three-parts through the worst of life's abyss, VI. And is it not the bitterer to think VII. Thou let'st the stranger's glove lie where it fell; For thou art grateful as becomes man best: Or viewed me from a window, not so soon With thee would such things fade as with the rest. VIII. I seem to see! We meet and part; 't is brief; The very chair I sat on, breaks the rank; Three lines, my face comes at so slight a call: IX. But now, because the hour through years was fixed, Because our inmost beings met and mixed, Because thou once hast loved me wilt thou dare Say to thy soul and Who may list beside, "Therefore she is immortally my bride; Chance cannot change my love, nor time impair. X. "So, what if in the dusk of life that's left, Look from my path when, mimicking the same, XI. Is it so helpful to thee?" Canst thou take Is the remainder of the way so long, Thou need'st the little solace, thou the strong? XII. - Ah, but the fresher faces! "Is it true," Thou 'lt ask, "some eyes are beautiful and new? Some hair, how can one choose but grasp such wealth? And if a man would press his lips to lips Fresh as the wilding hedge-rose-cup there slips The dewdrop out of, must it be by stealth? XIII. "It cannot change the love still kept for Her, More than if such a picture I prefer Passing a day with, to a room's bare side: The painted form takes nothing she possessed, Yet, while the Titian's Venus lies at rest, A man looks. Once more, what is there to chide?" XIV. So must I see, from where I sit and watch, Its warrant to the very thefts from me Thy man's-truth I was bold to bid God see! XV. Love so, then, if thou wilt! Give all thou canst Away to the new faces disentranced, (Say it and think it) obdurate no more: Re-issue looks and words from the old mint, Pass them afresh, no matter whose the print Image and superscription once they bore! XVI. Re-coin thyself and give it them to spend, - Since mine thou wast, mine art and mine shalt be, Faithful or faithless, sealing up the sum Or lavish of my treasure, thou must come Back to the heart's place here I keep for thee! XVII. Only, why should it be with stain at all? XVIII. Should I find Might I die last and show thee! The better that they are so blank, I know! XIX. Why, time was what I wanted, to turn o'er By heart each word, too much to learn at first, XX. And yet thou art the nobler of us two: What dare I dream of, that thou canst not do, Outstripping my ten small steps with one stride? I'll say then, here's a trial and a task Is it to bear? - if easy, I'll not ask: Though love fail, I can trust on in thy pride. Pride? XXI. when those eyes forestall the life behind when I find, Now that I want thy help most, all of thee! What did I fear? Thy love shall hold me fast Until the little minute's sleep is past The death I have to go through! And I wake saved. - And yet it will not be! TWO IN THE CAMPAGNA. I. I wonder do you feel to-day As I have felt since, hand in hand, II. For me, I touched a thought, I know, III. Help me to hold it! First it left The yellowing fennel, run to seed There, branching from the brickwork's cleft, Some old tomb's ruin yonder weed Took up the floating weft, IV. Where one small orange cup amassed Five beetles, - blind and green they grope Among the honey-meal: and last, Everywhere on the grassy slope I traced it. Hold it fast! V. The champaign with its endless fleece |