THE BURGHERS
"I'll take you to the doorway in the wall,
And then adieu," I to them. "Friends, withdraw."
They did so; and she went—beyond recall.
And as I paused beneath the arch I saw
Their moonlit figures—slow, as in surprise—
Descend the slope, and vanish on the haw.
"'Fool,' some will say," I thought. "But who is wise,
Save God alone, to weigh my reasons why?"
—"Hast thou struck home?" came with the boughs' night-sighs.
It was my friend. “I have struck well. They fly,
But carry wounds that none can cicatrize."
—"Not mortal?" said he. "Lingering—worse," said I.
