TO-DAY our Office friends declare,—
“Fate gave to her a hopeless part,
And wondrous was her pluck to bear
So long that knowledge at her heart.
Stretched straining on the rack of pain
She dwelt, it seemed, as one in bliss,
Yet who that knew her lot is fain
To weep that she has peace like this?”
But they, whose faithful hearts believed
They knew her lot, were never told
How strong her valorous soul conceived
That happy was her fate controlled.
Last night she told me,—“Though I lay
Withdrawn by bodily pangs from mirth,
There could not be a lovelier way
To live than you made mine on earth.
Your love was summer’s bloom and leaf,
It tranced my narrow strip of blue,
It touched my cheeks in zephyrs brief
That purely strengthened me anew;
It haloed City cloud and hill,
From clanging streets it fashioned song,
And when Night’s pealing chimes fell still
Its murmuring music trembled long.
Oh, love, you were my halcyon calm,
You were my mystic chrism that blest,
And your dear arms the lulling balm
That soothes me now to thankful rest.”
