Classic Poem

Because white hands clasped white hands,
And white arms wound white arms,
I'm wandering through the wide world,
Driven by those same heart-storms.

Because white arms wound white arms
Must mine hang quivering, bare,
All fain to reach and clasp again
White arms again as fair.

Did they that clasped desire me?
O no, 't was heart on heart,
'T was lip to lip and life for life—
Now living is my part.

Did they that loved stand awed at
My masked inheritance?
They laughed and called the echo …
I am a child of chance.

Children of chance we wander,
Possessed by those who gave
The undesired, unthought, unsought—
The life that we must save.

They asked for one another:
Blind Nature grimly hurled
A soul out through their gates of love,
To walk their weary world.