Classic Poem

I.

Whom first we love, we lose before we wed.
Time rules us all. And life, indeed, is not
The thing we plann'd it out ere hope was dead.
And then, we women cannot choose our lot.

II.

Much must be borne which it is hard to bear:
Much given away which it were sweet to keep.
The deed that never hath been done, the tear
That never hath been wept, — who knows how deep

III.

These lurk in unlived lives? Ourselves behind
Ourselves we leave, and miss what most we seek:
In our own memories our graves we find.
Strong is the burden, but the back is weak.

IV.

My little boy begins to babble now
Upon my knee his earliest infant prayer.
He hath his father's eager eyes, I know,
And, they say too, his mother's sunny hair.

V.

But when he sleeps and smiles upon my knee,
And I can feel his light breath come and go,
The thought of one comes o'er me (woe is me!)
Who loved me, and whom I loved, long ago.

VI.

Who might have been ... ah, what I dare not think!
The thing which must be, must be for the best.
God help us do our duty, and not shrink,
And trust His mercy humbly for the rest.

VII.

But blame us women not, if some appear
Too cold at times; and some too gay and light.
The life unlived, the deed undone, the tear
Unshed, ... not judging these, who judges right?

VII.

Were we but judged by what we might have been,
And not by what we are, too apt to fall!
My little child — he sleeps and smiles between
These thoughts and me. In Heaven we shall know all!