| |
|
Woman's
faith, and woman's trust -
Write the characters in
the dust;
Stamp them on the running stream,
Print
them on the moon's pale beam,
And each evanescent
letter
Shall be clearer, firmer, better,
And more
permanent, I ween,
Than the thing those letters mean.
I have strain'd the spider's thread
'Gainst the
promise of a maid;
I have weigh'd a grain of sand
'Gainst her plight of heart and hand;
I told my true
love of the token,
How her faith proved light, and
her word was broken:
Again her word and truth she
plight,
And I believed them again ere night.
|
|
|
