Page:History of Oregon Literature.djvu/307

We were fair to the world that day,
 And under the car we threw
Our love, all crowned in splendor—
 Our hearts, so tender and true.

What good have we done, my darling?
 You sleep in death’s eclipse,
With no touch of mine on your forehead,
 No kiss of mine on your lips.
I dream that I love a god
 Who speaks with a passionate sigh,
Where the sunflowers turn and nod,
 Watching us like a spy.

And he, through books and bays,
 Delveth for pretty words
To weave in his languid lays
 Of women and streams and birds.
What was my troth to him?
 A stepping stone at best;
My face was proud and my smiles were sweet,
 And his gold could do the rest.

Decked with my love for a time;
 But the day and the hour came
When he pushed the face you loved in the dust,
 And stepped to his niche of fame.
And the wheels rolled over again,
 And the car went clattering by;
And the lonely heart of your Queen
 Wearily waiteth to die.

God and the angels may tell us
 What beautiful faith we have wrought,
When we stand there together
 And a crown or two be brought.
But what are crowns to the love
 That spoke in sighs that June,
When you brought me your flute and played me
 The sweetest of all love’s tunes.