Page:Prometheus Bound, and other poems.djvu/164

158

first time that the sun rose on thine oath

To love me, I looked forward to the moon

To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon

And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.

Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe;

And, looking on myself, I seemed not one

For such man's love!—more like an out of tune

Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth

To spoil his song with, and which, snatched in haste,

Is laid down at the first ill-sounding note.

I did not wrong myself so, but I placed

A wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float

'Neath master-hands, from instruments defaced,—

And great souls, at one stroke, may do and doat.

, call me by my pet-name! let me hear

The name I used to run at, when a child,

From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled,

To glance up in some face that proved me dear

With the look of its eyes. I miss the clear

Fond voices, which, being drawn and reconciled

Into the music of Heaven's undefiled,

Call me no longer. Silence on the bier,

While I call God. . call God!—So let thy mouth

Be heir to those who are now exanimate:

Gather the north flowers to complete the south,

And catch the early love up in the late!

Yes, call me by that name,—and I, in truth,

With the same heart, will answer, and not wait.