|
Page 25 Mary.
Do you think we love
But with half hearts because our love to us
Is part of daily life, too known a thing
To praise or wonder at or analyse?
We are so sure, so happy, love so well,
That we forget 'tis loving, as one breathes
Pure genial air and never notes one breathes.
Not love him! Well, you'll see him presently,
You'll know how far from possible it were
For the woman who loves Lionel Ellerton
To love a little. You laugh, Eleanor,
With that strange bitter laugh of yours that rings
Always half like a cry to me who knew
The days when you were merry honestly.
You scorn such bright monotony, you'd have
A love like mountain-showers and sunlights mixed,
Dashes of anger but the love light still
Prompt to the eyes. But wait, dear Eleanor,
Till love worth you, that yet makes you more worth
That you may be worth it and him you love,
Comes, as it yet will come, must come, and then
You'll know what a rich thing my sunshine is,
My sunshine that makes beauty everywhere
Even upon the little cross black clouds
That cannot come athwart it but they change
And seem part of the sunshine.
Next |
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 |
