Page:Ethel Churchill Fragments II.pdf/19



The altar, 'tis of death! for there are laid The sacrifice of all youth's sweetest hopes. It is a dreadful thing for woman's lip To swear the heart away; yet know that heart Annuls the vow while speaking, and shrinks back From the dark future that it dares not face. The service read above the open grave Is far less terrible than that which seals The vow that binds the victim, not the will; For in the grave is rest.