Page:Poems Piatt.djvu/115

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A WALL BETWEEN.
101
You see the bud upon the bough with joy,
  You look through summer toward the fruit——
  The worm is at the root?

  Well—if it is. You see,
Your feet are set among our pleasant dews;
  Therefore, that crown of phantom stars for me,
In distance most divine, you kindly choose,
  Content to leave your own unwon,
  And shine here with the sun.

  Hush! Wait! Somehow—I know.
You do remind me tenderly of—yes,
  Of him, your kinsman (long, so long ago),
But for these sacred garments. I confess,
  Oh, father, I cannot forget
  The world where he stays yet!

  Quick! will you look away?
Too cruelly like him in the dusk you grow,—
  This awful dusk that ends it all, I say.
You pity us when we are young, you know,
  And lose a lover. Surely then
  There may be other men.