Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/238

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
218
A FLOWER FOR THE DEAD
With a man's firm tread you went and came;
You lived for wealth, for power, for fame;
Shut in to her woman's work and ways,
She heard the nation chant your praise.

But ah! you had dropped her hand the while;
What time had you for a kiss, a smile?
You two, with the same roof overhead,
Were as far apart as the sundered dead!

You, in your manhood's strength and prime;
She, worn and faded before her time.
'Tis a common story. This rose, you say,
You laid in her pallid hand to-day?

When did you give her a flower before?
Ah, well!l—what matter when all is o'er?
Yet stay a moment; you'll wed again.
I mean no reproach; 'tis the way of men.

But I pray you think when some fairer face
Shines like a star from her wonted place,
That love will starve if it is not fed;
That true hearts pray for their daily bread.