Part 7 (1/2)

Soon enough, to Death and thee, The a.s.sembly call shall come.

Soldier, rest awhile at home.

ONE TEAR

Last night, when at parting Awhile we did stand, Suddenly starting, There fell on my hand

Something that burned it, Something that shone In the moon as I turned it, And then it was gone.

One bright stray jewel-- What made it stray?

Was I cold or cruel, At the close of day?

Oh, do not cry, la.s.s!

What is crying worth?

There is no la.s.s like my la.s.s In the whole wide earth.

A LOVER'S CONFESSION

When people tell me they have loved But once in youth, I wonder, are they always moved To speak the truth?

Not that they wilfully deceive: They fondly cherish A constancy which they would grieve To think might perish.

They cherish it until they think 'Twas always theirs.

So, if the truth they sometimes blink, 'Tis unawares.

Yet unawares, I must profess, They do deceive Themselves, and those who questionless Their tale believe.

For I have loved, I freely own, A score of times, And woven, out of love alone, A hundred rhymes.

Boys will be fickle. Yet, when all Is said and done, I was not one whom you could call A flirt--not one

Of those who into three or four Their hearts divide.

My queens came singly to the door, Not side by side.

Each, while she reigned, possessed alone My spirit loyal, Then left an undisputed throne To one more royal,

To one more fair in form and face Sweeter and stronger, Who filled the throne with truer grace, And filled it longer.

So, love by love, they came and pa.s.sed, These loves of mine, And each one brighter than the last Their lights did s.h.i.+ne.

Until--but am I not too free, Most courteous stranger, With secrets which belong to me?

There is a danger.