Poems (Jackson)/Acquainted with Grief
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ACQUAINTED WITH GRIEF.
OST know Grief well? Hast known her long?
So long, that not with gift or smile,
Or gliding footstep in the throng,
She can deceive thee by her guile?
So long, that not with gift or smile,
Or gliding footstep in the throng,
She can deceive thee by her guile?
So long, that with unflinching eyes
Thou smilest to thyself apart,
To watch each flimsy, fresh disguise
She plans to stab anew thy heart?
Thou smilest to thyself apart,
To watch each flimsy, fresh disguise
She plans to stab anew thy heart?
So long, thou barrest up no door
To stay the coming of her feet?
So long, thou answerest no more,
Lest in her ear thy cry be sweet?
To stay the coming of her feet?
So long, thou answerest no more,
Lest in her ear thy cry be sweet?
Dost know the voice in which she says,
"No more henceforth our paths divide;
In loneliest nights, in crowded days,
I am forever by thy side"?
"No more henceforth our paths divide;
In loneliest nights, in crowded days,
I am forever by thy side"?
Then dost thou know, perchance, the spell
The gods laid on her at her birth,—
The viewless gods who mingle well
Strange love and hate of us on earth.
The gods laid on her at her birth,—
The viewless gods who mingle well
Strange love and hate of us on earth.
Weapon and time, the hour, the place,
All these are hers to take, to choose,
To give us neither rest nor grace,
Not one heart-throb to miss or lose.
All these are hers to take, to choose,
To give us neither rest nor grace,
Not one heart-throb to miss or lose.
All these are hers; yet stands she, slave,
Helpless before our one behest:
The gods, that we be shamed not, gave,
And locked the secret in our breast.
Helpless before our one behest:
The gods, that we be shamed not, gave,
And locked the secret in our breast.
She to the gazing world must bear
Our crowns of triumph, if we bid;
Loyal and mute, our colors wear,
Sign of her own forever hid.
Our crowns of triumph, if we bid;
Loyal and mute, our colors wear,
Sign of her own forever hid.
Smile to our smile, song to our song,
With songs and smiles our roses fling,
Till men turn round in every throng,
To note such joyous pleasuring.
With songs and smiles our roses fling,
Till men turn round in every throng,
To note such joyous pleasuring.
And ask, next morn, with eyes that lend
A fervor to the words they say,
"What is her name, that radiant friend
Who walked beside you yesterday?"
A fervor to the words they say,
"What is her name, that radiant friend
Who walked beside you yesterday?"