Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Lilla CabotPerry1426 Meeting after Long Absence
AS SHE FEARED IT WOULD BE
H
And where we said farewell with tears,
Here, where you swore “Though you forget,
My love shall deeper grow with years,”
The very rugs upon the floor,
The smallest objects you recall,—
I am awaiting you once more.
From off their shelves they beckon me.
All here seems living! What is dead?
What is the ghost I fear to see?
My love as “small”?—it fills my heart!
You come—a stranger from your eyes
Looks out—and, meeting, first we part.
AS IT WAS
I
That you were changed and I was true;
I would not trust winds, waves, and birds
That change was not in you.
“As murdered corpse in river bed
In eyes my heart cannot forget
I see Love lying dead!”
Our hands, once clasped, forgot to part,
And, though our silence is unbroken,
Heart has found rest on heart.