Page:The Happy Marriage and Other Poems.pdf/72

 the hills and very far away, Far, far away and centuries ago, She was so young, so swift to love, so slow— Waiting the lover perfect every way— To guess the thing was love and would not stay. She never thought to die. She did not know Her spring, put off, forestalled, would never blow. She never doubted there should come the day.

She doubts not now. Her mouth that wears the stone Soft as the subtle fashion of the flesh