  (In Four Scenes.) SCENE I. "When he comes, my darling, I shall tell him all: All the secret ecstasy, All the peace and joy, All my heart's sweet fantasy, Free from self's alloy,— All— O blessed power Of love's sweet hour, When I shall tell him all, Shall tell him all!" SCENE II. "Hark, hark! he's come. I hear his step. O joy, love's hour is here. I knew that he was true and pure, I could not feel love's fear. Oh, no; I could not, dear." SCENE III. She gave one look, one piercing look, Drew back her anguished soul, Then murmured low, "O bitter hour! But—God—forgive—the—whole— Forgive— O bitter power Of love's death-hour, I thought to tell him all, To tell him all." SCENE IV. He gazed upon her lifeless face, He held her lifeless hand. Was this the form he once had loved? He did not understand. Once loved? Yes, that was so. He'd loved since, one or two, And—well, what was a woman for, If not for man to woo? MORAL. Alas, for broken hearts and lives Of those who can but trust! Alas, for those who see no law But that of selfish must! |
|
