She, to Him III
I will be faithful to thee; aye, I will!And Death shall choose me with a wondering eyeThat he did not discern and domicileOne his by right ever since that last Good-bye!
I have no care for friends, or kin, or primeOf manhood who deal gently with me here;Amid the happy people of my timeWho work their love’s fulfilment, I appear
Numb as a vane that cankers on its point,True to the wind that kissed ere canker came;Despised by souls of Now, who would disjointThe mind from memory, and make Life all aim,
My old dexterities of hue quite gone,And nothing left for Love to look upon.
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