Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . I know,Since nothing all nmy love avails,Since all my life seemed meant for, fails, Since this was written and needs must be—My whole heart rises up to blessYour name in pride and thankfulness!Take back the hope you gave,—I claimOnly a memory of the same,—And this beside, if you will not blame. Your leave for one more last ride with me. II My mistress bent that brow of hers,Those deep dark eyes where pride demursWhen pity would be softening me a breathing-while or two With life or death in the balance—Right!The blood re
Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . I know,Since nothing all nmy love avails,Since all my life seemed meant for, fails, Since this was written and needs must be—My whole heart rises up to blessYour name in pride and thankfulness!Take back the hope you gave,—I claimOnly a memory of the same,—And this beside, if you will not blame. Your leave for one more last ride with me. II My mistress bent that brow of hers,Those deep dark eyes where pride demursWhen pity would be softening me a breathing-while or two With life or death in the balance—Right!The blood replenished me again :My last thought was at least not and my mistress, side by sideShall be together, breathe and one day more am I deified. Who knows but the world may end to-night ? Ill Hush ! if you saw some western cloud All billowy-bosomed, over-bowed By many benedictions—suns And moons and evening-stars at once— And so, you, looking and loving best,Conscious grew, your passion drewCloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too 246. un THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER Down on you, near and yet more near,Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!—Thus leant she and lingered—^joy and fear!Thus lay she a moment on my breast. IV Then we began to ride. My soulSmoothed itself out, a long-cramped scrollFreshening and fluttering in the hopes already lay behind. What need to strive with a life awry?Had I said that, had I done this,So might I gain, so might I she have loved me ? just as wellShe might have hated,—who can tell ?Where had I been now if the worst befell ? And here we are riding, she and I. V Fail I alone, in words and deeds ?Why, all men strive and who succeeds ?We rode ; it seemed my spirit other regions, cities new, As the world rushed by on either thought. All labour, yet no lessBear up beneath their at the end of work, contrastThe pretty Done the Undone present of theirs with the hopeful pas
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Keywords: ., bookauthorgarnettr, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904
