A STORY OF OLDEN TIME.
37
Death, death!" But with a quiet mien she spake, "Not death, but life,
The winning of a long-sought boon, the ending of a strife;"
And laid her head upon his breast, like one that wearied sore,
Sighs deep, yet well content to know the struggle comes no more.
He looked at her, he smote his hands together with a cry—
"True heart and sweet, that hast not spared for one like me to die,—
O live for me!" "Yea, would I fain, for what is death to prove
What life bears feeble witness to—the steadfast strength of love;"
So spake she tenderly: "yet One above shall choose for me,
That chooseth best,—for each is blest,—to live, to die, for thee!"
The winning of a long-sought boon, the ending of a strife;"
And laid her head upon his breast, like one that wearied sore,
Sighs deep, yet well content to know the struggle comes no more.
He looked at her, he smote his hands together with a cry—
"True heart and sweet, that hast not spared for one like me to die,—
O live for me!" "Yea, would I fain, for what is death to prove
What life bears feeble witness to—the steadfast strength of love;"
So spake she tenderly: "yet One above shall choose for me,
That chooseth best,—for each is blest,—to live, to die, for thee!"
"Oh come unto thy place at last!" and to his heart, smit through
With love and anguish, Guilbert then the dying woman drew;
Two human hearts that Life had held apart with severance keen,
Together met and mingled fast with only Death between.
With love and anguish, Guilbert then the dying woman drew;
Two human hearts that Life had held apart with severance keen,
Together met and mingled fast with only Death between.
