In A Year

I.

Never any more,

 While I live,

Need I hope to see his face

 As before.

Once his love grown chill,

 Mine may strive:

Bitterly we re-embrace,

 Single still.

II.

Was it something said,

 Something done,

Vexed him? was it touch of hand,

 Turn of head?

Strange! that very way

 Love begun:

I as little understand

 Love's decay.

III.

When I sewed or drew,

 I recall

How he looked as if I sung,

 —-Sweetly too.

If I spoke a word,

 First of all

Up his cheek the colour sprang,

 Then he heard.

IV.

Sitting by my side,

 At my feet,

So he breathed but air I breathed,

 Satisfied!

I, too, at love's brim

 Touched the sweet:

I would die if death bequeathed

 Sweet to him.

V.

``Speak, I love thee best!''

  He exclaimed:

``Let thy love my own foretell!''

 I confessed:

``Clasp my heart on thine

 ``Now unblamed,

``Since upon thy soul as well

 ``Hangeth mine!''

VI.

Was it wrong to own,

 Being truth?

Why should all the giving prove

 His alone?

I had wealth and ease,

 Beauty, youth:

Since my lover gave me love,

 I gave these.

VII.

That was all I meant,

 —-To be just,

And the passion I had raised,

 To content.

Since he chose to change

 Gold for dust,

If I gave him what he praised

 Was it strange?

VIII.

Would he loved me yet,

 On and on,

While I found some way undreamed

 —-Paid my debt!

Gave more life and more,

 Till, all gone,

He should smile ``She never seemed

 ``Mine before.

IX.

``What, she felt the while,

 ``Must I think?

``Love's so different with us men!''

He should smile:

 ``Dying for my sake—-

``White and pink!

 ``Can't we touch these bubbles then

``But they break?''

X.

Dear, the pang is brief,

 Do thy part,

Have thy pleasure! How perplexed

 Grows belief!

Well, this cold clay clod

 Was man's heart:

Crumble it, and what comes next?

 Is it God?