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A LITTLE word not said,
A little word begged in vain -
And oh! I would be rather lying dead,
If only then he would love me again.
A foolish touch of pride,
Pride more than half meant to please -
And I, that should deck me a May-morn bride,
Sit weeping alone by the bare March trees.
And soon, soon, May will come,
And soon, soon, May will be gone,
But my love will have made him a lonely home,
And I must be loving him, loving alone.
How strange he could not tell
His peace was made at a word;
If I acted my anger never so well,
Could he catch no echoes from love-words once heard?
Too late for him to know!
Too late! Let him think me cold,
And loveless and false as he says; better so.
But my love, my love, I love more than of old.
Oh, best love of my heart,
Oh love, my lover no more,
You have ruled it firmly that we should part,
But you cannot make me less yours than before.
Yours, yours, yours alone,
Still yours though you will not care,
Yours with a love that has been but half shown,
For 'tis fit to be coy ... and I did not dare.
You'll not know all your life
What loving you means to me.
I thought "Oh the bold brave love of his wife!"
But, oh! once my betrothed, who shall she now be?
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A Woman Sold
Bartimaeus
Judas
Pilate
The Walk To Emmaus
A Bride
A March Night
A Messenger
A Mother's Cry
A Wedding
Afterwards
Dead Amy
Deserted
Dreaming
Glad Waves
Going
How The Brook Sings
If
In The Storm
In The Sunshine
Looking Downstairs
Mary Lost
Never Again
Night Whispers
On The Lake
On The Shore
Our Lily
Passing Away
Perjured
Safe
Shadow
Sunlight
The Blush Rose
The Gift
The Heiress' Wooer
The Hidden Wound
The Lake
The Land Of Happy Dreams
The Old Year Out
The Red Star On The Hill
The River
The Setting Star
The Shadow Of A Cloud
To And Fro
To One Of Many
Too faithful
Two Maidens |
