Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/113



OW had it been, my belovèd,

Had Fate united us sooner,—

In the bright days when our hearts

First dreamed of loving?—

When, a thrice exquisite vision,

Hope, all her lute-strings unbroken,

Smilingly beckoned us on,

Wooed us to follow?—

When our youth, eager, expectant,—

Trusting the north as the south wind,

Hardly, its pulses a-throb,

Staid life's unfolding?

Had I been more to you, dearer,

Bearing my myrtle and roses,

Than, as I came, crowned with rue,

Weighted with sorrow,

Seeing both light and its shadow,

Taught both of truth and illusion,

Knowing earth's rapture and pain,

Sharing earth's travail?