Page:The green helmet and other poems.pdf/15



If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, "He holds her dear," And shook with hate and fear. But oh, 't was bitter wrong If he could pass her by With an indifferent eye.

Whereon I wrote and wrought, And now, being gray, I dream that I have brought To such a pitch my thought That coming time can say, He shadowed in a glass What thing her body was."