Freston
9
UNREPENTENT
Of all the fates that crossed my own,—
Of all the men that I have known,
'Tis strange that thou shouldst be
The one to hold the torch of fire
That set aflame my heart's desire,
And made it burn for thee.
Of all the men that I have known,
'Tis strange that thou shouldst be
The one to hold the torch of fire
That set aflame my heart's desire,
And made it burn for thee.
I ask not if a love as strong
Meets mine, nor if your heart, as long
As mine, may faithful stay!
With open hands, I give my gold
To the last grain,—nothing withhold,
Nor haggle for my pay.
Meets mine, nor if your heart, as long
As mine, may faithful stay!
With open hands, I give my gold
To the last grain,—nothing withhold,
Nor haggle for my pay.
That heart is poor and weak and small,
That counts each heart throb,—numbers all
The pulsings of its pain.
And, "so much have I given!" say,
"So much on such and such a day,
You must return the same."
That counts each heart throb,—numbers all
The pulsings of its pain.
And, "so much have I given!" say,
"So much on such and such a day,
You must return the same."
