Читать книгу Herbs and Apples - Whitney Helen Hay - Страница 17

So I have lost you. When the utter ache

Shall fade at length to mere despondency

What will the answer to this problem be?

They say that nothing dies, that all we stake

Brings some unknown return; what then shall make

An adequate exchange for love, to see

Your hand held out in friendship?—as for me

The episode is ended, for life's sake.

You want me still for that small joy I gave,

But now it ends for you. I am not brave

To love you seared; I have no happy days

To brood upon at dusk, and so I claim,

As all the wager that good fortune pays,

Complete obliteration of your name.