In Teeth Of Fate

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward

 Next Poem          

Let us sit in our darkening weather,
Dear Heart! alone together
For a while,
And talk it all over bravely.
Nay, lift me not up that white, sweet smile;
We'll face what is coming bravely or gravely,--
But I cannot bear that smile.

No, I did not say the dying,
But those departing, flying
Far away,
Smile so. Come a little nearer!
I can better think what I had to say.
My darling, my darling! stay nearer, be dearer!
We will talk some other day.

Next Poem 

 Back to Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward