So grew my own small life complete,

As nature obtained her best of me
One born to love you, sweet!

LII.

And to watch you sink by the fireside now
Back again, as you mutely sit
Musing by fire-light, that great brow
And the spirit-small hand propping it,
Yonder, my heart knows how!

LIII.

So, earth has gained by one man the more,
And the gain of earth must be heaven's gain too;
And the whole is well worth thinking o'er

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 -
Who art all truth, and who dost love me now

As thine eyes say, as thy voice breaks to say
Shouldst love so truly, and couldst love me still
A whole long life through, had but love its will,
Would death that leads me from thee brook delay.

II.

I have but to be by thee, and thy hand
Will never let mine go, nor heart withstand
The beating of my heart to reach its place.
When shall I look for thee and feel thee gone?
When cry for the old comfort and find none ?
Never, I know! Thy soul is in thy face.

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
Thou couldst not find the love there, thanks to Him
Who never is dishonored in the spark

He gave us from his fire of fires, and bade
Remember whence it sprang, nor be afraid

While that burns on, though all the rest grow dark.

V.

So, how thou wouldst be perfect, white and clean
Outside as inside, soul and soul's demesne

Alike, this body given to show it by!

Oh, three-parts through the worst of life's abyss,
What plaudits from the next world after this,
Couldst thou repeat a stroke and gain the sky!

VI.

And is it not the bitterer to think
That disengage our hands and thou wilt sink
Although thy love was love in very deed?
I know that nature! Pass a festive day,
Thou dost not throw its relic-flower away
Nor bid its music's loitering echo speed.

VII.

Thou let'st the stranger's glove lie where it fell;
If old things remain old things all is well,

For thou art grateful as becomes man best:
And hadst thou only heard me play one tune,

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 book I opened keeps a folded leaf,

The very chair I sat on, breaks the rank;
That is a portrait of me on the wall

Three lines, my face comes at so slight a call:
And for all this, one little hour to thank!

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,
I, a tired traveller of my sun bereft,

Look from my path when, mimicking the same,
The fire-fly glimpses past me, come and gone?
- Where was it till the sunset? where anon
It will be at the sunrise! What's to blame?

XI.

Is it so helpful to thee?" Canst thou take
The mimic up, nor, for the true thing's sake,
Put gently by such efforts at a beam?

Is the remainder of the way so long,

Thou need'st the little solace, thou the strong?
Watch out thy watch, let weak ones doze and dream!

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,
My own self sell myself, my hand attach

Its warrant to the very thefts from me
Thy singleness of soul that made me proud,
Thy purity of heart I loved aloud,

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, -
It all comes to the same thing at the end,

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?
Why must I, 'twixt the leaves of coronal,
Put any kiss of pardon on thy brow?
Why need the other women know so much,
And talk together, "Such the look and such
The smile he used to love with, then as now!"

XVIII.

Should I find

Might I die last and show thee!
Such hardship in the few years left behind,
If free to take and light my lamp, and go
Into thy tomb, and shut the door and sit,
Seeing thy face on those four sides of it

The better that they are so blank, I know!

XIX.

Why, time was what I wanted, to turn o'er
Within my mind each look, get more and more

By heart each word, too much to learn at first,
And join thee all the fitter for the pause
'Neath the low doorway's lintel. That were cause
For lingering, though thou calledst, if I durst!

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,
We sat down on the grass, to stray
In spirit better through the land,
This morn of Rome and May?

II.

For me, I touched a thought, I know,
Has tantalized me many times,
(Like turns of thread the spiders throw
Mocking across our path) for rhymes
To catch at and let go.

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
Of feathery grasses everywhere!
Silence and passion, joy and peace,
An everlasting wash of air-
Rome's ghost since her decease.