XXX
My Lady of the Sonnets, one word more,
The last; and, after, let the silence fall.
Our year is ended, and things great and small
Glow with its glory; could we live it o'er,
What would we scatter from its precious store
Of pearl, chalcedony, and topaz — all
The many-jewelled moments that we call
Love's treasure — we who had not loved before!
Into that treasure plunge we both our hands,
The while we laugh, and love, and live again.
What rainbow-splendours and what golden sands
Fall from our fingers! . . . Now let come the pain
And steal the shadow, moan the wintry sea;
Locked is the casket: in your hands the key!
~~
Robert Norwood (1874-1932)
from His Lady of the Sonnets, 1915
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]
Robert Norwood biography
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