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 Ah, if thou shouldst be kind and set thy seal On me and mine for ever. Women know The secret ways of love and all its lore If,—Ah, dear God in Heaven, if this were so!

My firstborn should be thine, then all my life Will, and must, keep the memory of thee. Even as thou art printed on my heart, So on my being must thy impress be.

No second lover and no second child Efface the imprint of the first who came, And on the golden sands of youth inscribed Lightly, but so indelibly, his name.

Many a custom, many an old abuse Thy people cherish still, unknown to thee; My cousin whispers me among the reeds, "What has the priest to do with thee and me?

"Let us forestall our marriage, thus thy child Will be thy husband's, not a lawless thing Born of injustice." Ah, how blind men are, How strange their words of careless kindness ring.

It is the sweetest justice or our lives That once, ere settling to our lifelong task Of serving boors and raising sons to them One golden moment, too divine to ask

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