Hand in Hand/A Man's Thought

by Alice MacDonald Fleming

A MAN'S THOUGHT

I SOUGHT one snare that might enmesh,
One spell to sway the perfect whole;
The rose and lily of set flesh,
The dew and fire of her soul.
Poor finite Love! that still must crave,
And vainly crave the full control:
This rose has blossomed on her grave,
That star is brighter for her soul.