And rise not--no more need he suffer or ponder
O'er losses, or weep,
But sink low and sleep
While the summers go by.



TWO



As I sat in my opera box last night
In a glimmer of gems and a blaze of light,
And smiling that all might see,
This curious thought came all unsought--
That there were TWO of me.

One who sat in her silk and lace,
With gems on her bosom and smiles on her face,
And hot-house blossoms in her hair,
While her fan kept time to the swaying rhyme
Of the lilting opera air.

And one who sat in the dark somewhere,
With her wan face hid by her falling hair,
And her hands clasped over her eyes;
And the sickening pain of heart and brain
Breathed out in long-drawn sighs.

One in the sheen of her opera suit;