TO VICTOIRE, ON HER MARRIAGE.
Victoire! I knew thee in thy land,
Where I was strange to all:
I heard thee; and were strange to me
The words thy lips let fall.
I loved thee—for the Babel curse
Was meant not for the heart:
I parted from thee, in such way
As those who love may part.
And now a change hath come to us,
A sea doth rush between!
I do not know if we can be
Again as we have been.
