THE RIVAL

She failed me at the tryst:

All the long afternoon

The golden day went by,

Until the rising moon;

But, as I waited on,

Turning my eyes about,

Aching for sight of her,

Until the stars came out,—

Maybe‘ twas but a dream —

There close against my face,

“Beauty am I,” said one,

“I come to take her place.”

And then I understood

Why, all the waiting through,

The green had seemed so green,

The blue had seemed so blue,

The song of bird and stream

Had been so passing sweet,

For all the coming not

Of her forgetful feet;

And how my heart was tranced,

For all its lonely ache,

Gazing on mirrored rushes

Sky-deep in the lake.

Said Beauty: “Me you love,

You love her for my sake.”