Page:Poems Piatt.djvu/135

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DOUBLE QUATRAINS.
121
X.

FOR ANOTHER'S SAKE.

Sweet, sweet? My child, some sweeter word than sweet,
Some lovelier word than love, I want for you.
'Who says the world is bitter, while your feet
Are left among the lilies and the dew?

. . . Ah? So some other has, this night, to fold
Such hands as his, and drop some precious head
From off her breast as full of baby-gold?
I, for her grief, will not be comforted.