Page:On a grey thread (IA ongreythread00gidl).pdf/62

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Constancy

You 're jealous if I kiss this girl and that.
You think I should be constant to one mouth.
Little you know of my too quenchless drouth.
My sister, I keep faith with love, not lovers.

Life laid a flaming finger on my heart,
Gave me an electric golden thread,
Pointed to a pile of beads and said:
Link me one more perfect than the rest.

Love 's the thread, my sister, you a bead,
An ivory one, you are so delicate.
These first burned ash-grey—far too passionate.
Farther on the colors mount and sing.

When the last bead 's painted with the last design
And slipped upon the thread, I 'll tie it so,
Then smiling quietly, I 'll turn and go
While vain Life boasts her latest ornament.

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