Page:Maurine and Other Poems (1910).pdf/70

 Too much of public notice. But this shot Resulted only in some noise, which brought A dozen people, where one came before, To view my pictures; and I had my hour Of holding those frail baubles, Fame and Pow’r. An English Baron who had lived two score Of his allotted three score years and ten Bought both the pieces. He was very kind, And so attentive, I, not being blind, Must understand his meaning.

Therefore, when He said, “Sweet friend, whom I would make my wife, The ‘Joy’ and ‘Sorrow’ this dear hand portrayed I have in my possession: now resign Into my careful keeping, and make mine, The joy and sorrow of your future life,”— I was prepared to answer, but delayed, Grown undecided suddenly.

My mind Argued the matter coolly pro and con, And made resolve to speed his wooing on And grant him favour. He was good and kind; Not young, no doubt he would be quite content With my respect, nor miss an ardent love; Could give me ties of family and home; And then, perhaps, my mind was not above Setting some value on a titled name— Ambitious woman’s weakness!

Then my art Would be encouraged and pursued the same, And I could spend my winters all in Rome. Love never more could touch my wasteful heart That all its wealth upon one object spent. Existence would be very bleak and cold, After long years, when I was gray and old, With neither home nor children.

Once a wife, I would forget the sorrow of my life, And pile new sods upon the grave of pain. My mind so argued; and my sad heart heard, But made no comment.