My love has left me. Let my heart forget
The happy days and moments of our past
That in the future I shall not regret
The worship of a love that could not last.
Make me remember there are things apart
From dreamy love and visionary truth
And teach me to forget how once my heart
Did love with all the tenderness of youth.
Yes, teach me to forget--and how to live
Without the joy of hope. For I have seen
How every single pleasure life can give
Must needs sow seeds of misery between.
No more of love. Since at such heavy cost
It must be bought and even then be lost.
_M. ST. CLARE BYRNE_
(_SOMERVILLE_)
“AND ONE FELL BY THE WAYSIDE ...”
Scholar, and man of letters, and daintily nurtured,
You were one with your peers,
Leaving the half-told story,
Throwing away the dear things of this life-time--
All you found was the steady, silent effort,
Only the toilsome moulding, the shaping the weapon,
None of the keen sword-glory.
Not for you the crown and the consummation,
Not the battle-death, sharp, swift, and kindly;
Only the early plodding on, half blindly,
Only seeing the end by the faith of the spirit,
Only the hardest of all, the preparation,
All the heart-breaking spadework,
Formulas, initiation;
Only the snows of December ...
Under the snow the quiet brown land lies sleeping,
Waiting the breath of Spring--
God will remember.
_J. E. A. CARVER_
(_MAGDALEN_)