Conrad Aiken

Suddenly, after the quarrel, while we waited,

Disheartened, silent, with downcast looks, nor stirred

Eyelid nor finger, hopeless both, yet hoping

Against all hope to unsay the sundering word:

While the room’s stillness deepened, deepened about us,

And each of us crept his thought’s way to discover

How, with as little sound as the fall of a leaf,

The shadow had fallen, and lover quarreled with lover;

And while, in the quiet, I marveled—alas, alas—

At your deep beauty, your tragic beauty, torn

As the pale flower is torn by the wanton sparrow—

This beauty, pitied and loved, and now forsworn;

It was then, when the instant darkened to its darkest,—

When faith was lost with hope, and the rain conspired

To strike its gay arpeggios against our heartstrings,—

When love no longer dared, and scarcely desired:

It was then that suddenly, in the neighbor’s room,

The music started: that brave quartette of strings

Breaking out of the stillness, as out of our stillness,

Like the indomitable heart of life that sings

\When all is lost; and startled from our sorrow,

Tranced from our grief by the diviner grief,

We raised remembering eyes, each looked at other,

Blinded with tears of joy; and another leaf

Fell silently as that first; and in the instant

The shadow had gone, our quarrel became absurd;

And we rose, to the angelic voices of the music,

And I touched your hand, and we kissed, without a word.


                           YOUNG CHARMS

                                                               Thomas Moore

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,

Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,

Like fairy-gifts fading away,

Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will,

And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart

Would entwine itself verdantly still.

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,

And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,

That the fervor and faith of a soul may be known,

To which time will but make thee more dear!

No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,

But as truly loves on to the close,

As the sunflower turns to her god when he sets

The same look which she turned when he rose!

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D.U.O Project
Church of the Science of God
La Jolla, California 92038-3131

Church of the Science of GOD, 1993
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