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CAPITULATION.
[Margaret.]
LOVE, do you love me, really and truly ?
If I submit to you, frankly and duly,
Will you, magnanimous, ease the surrender ?
Will you be merciful, patient, and tender ?
Will you, against myself, be my defender ?
Love, if to-morrow word came I must leave you,
Would this, our happy time, cheer you or grieve you ?
Would you then wish that you never had known me,
That I had left you in peacefulness lonely ?
Would you be desperate, love, or sad only ?
Love, only one thing is patent and certain,—
All of our past is shut off by a curtain,
Thick and impalpable as the night falling ;
Never again shall the darkness enthralling
Hear us, like lonely birds, each to each calling.
