AFTER
85
We sobbed, and stretched our arms out, and
despaired,
And—parted. Out the brute-side of
truth flared ;
‘¢Thank God I’ve finished with that
foolishness | ”’
II.
AH! there’ be two sides to all shapes of
truth !
I might indeed go back to bitter toil,
Prune the mind’s vine, and gather in the
spoil
Rough-conquered from
fields, without ruth
Pillaging Nature, pawning
youth
For some strange guerdon (or its counter-
foil)
Gainless or not-to-be-gained, priestly or
royal,
Profane, canaille—I know not, in good
sooth !
books,
men,
strength and
I might do this: or else I might repose
Wrapped in the urned leaves of my
love’s blown rose,
Seek her in spirit, and commune, and
wait
Her freedom and the rapture to enclose
In my own house her beauty intimate.
I am a fool, tossing a coin with Fate.
If.
Is love indeed eternal? Otherwise
Is evolution an eternal plan?
Must I move upward in the stream of
Man,
God-ward: my life as Christ to sacrifice,
As Buddha to repress: to grow so wise,
Space, time shall lie within my finger-
span?
I know not which I wish: either I can;
Not both, unless all meditation lies.
I am not sure: if love as great as ours
May not be God to part of us at least,
Leaving the rest to find its heights and
powers
In other spheres; that, night’s enamoured
priest5
This, on the lake the dewy lotus-flowers
That lift their jewelled hearts toward
the East.
AFTER.
Now, when the sun falls in the dismal sky
And no light leaps beneath the plunging
prow,
I know the fulness of my sorrow now :-—
That all my talk and laughter was a lie;
That as each hour widens the gulfs that sigh
Between us; the truth scores upon my
brow
Sigils of silence, burns in me the vow
‘‘T love you, and shall love you till I
die.”
Whether next year, as fondly we made oath,
Shall see us meet at least, whether as
wife
I shall at last gather the whole vow’s
breath—
Not heaven nor hell shall break our solemn
troth.
I love you, and shall love you all my
life,
I love you, and shall love you after
death.