No More Learning

That was wrong perhaps--but then
Such things be--and will, again.
Women cannot judge for men.

XVII.

Had he seen thee when he swore
He would love but me alone?
Thou wast absent, sent before
To our kin in Sidmouth town.
When he saw thee who art best
Past compare, and loveliest.
He but judged thee as the rest.

XVIII.

Could we blame him with grave words,
Thou and I, Dear, if we might?
Thy brown eyes have looks like birds
Flying straightway to the light:
Mine are older. --Hush! --look out--
Up the street! Is none without?
How the poplar swings about!

XIX.
And that hour--beneath the beech,
When I listened in a dream,
And he said in his deep speech
That he owed me all _esteem_,--
Each word swam in on my brain
With a dim, dilating pain,
Till it burst with that last strain.

XX.

I fell flooded with a dark,
In the silence of a swoon.
When I rose, still cold and stark,
There was night; I saw the moon
And the stars, each in its place,
And the May-blooms on the grass,
Seemed to wonder what I was.

XXI.

And I walked as if apart
From myself, when I could stand,
And I pitied my own heart,
As if I held it in my hand--
Somewhat coldly, with a sense
Of fulfilled benevolence,
And a "Poor thing" negligence.

XXII.

And I answered coldly too,
When you met me at the door;
And I only _heard_ the dew
Dripping from me to the floor:
And the flowers, I bade you see,
Were too withered for the bee,--
As my life, henceforth, for me.

XXIII.

Do not weep so--Dear,--heart-warm!
All was best as it befell.
If I say he did me harm,
I speak wild,--I am not well.
All his words were kind and good--
_He esteemed me. _ Only, blood
Runs so faint in womanhood!

XXIV.

Then I always was too grave,--
Liked the saddest ballad sung,--
With that look, besides, we have
In our faces, who die young.