Fly Leaves — On the Brink

ON THE BRINK.

I WATCH’D her as she stoop’d to pluck A wildflower in her hair to twine;

And wish’d that it had been my luck To call her mine.

Anon I heard her rate with mad Mad words her babe within its cot;

And felt particularly glad That it had not.

I knew (such subtle brains have men) That she was uttering what she shouldn’t;

And thought that I would chide, and then I thought I wouldn’t: Who could have gazed upon that face, Those pouting coral lips, and chided?

A Rhadamanthus, in my place, Had done as I did: For ire wherewith our bosoms glow Is chain’d there oft by Beauty’s spell;

And, more than that, I did not know The widow well.

So the harsh phrase pass’d unreproved.

Still mute—(O brothers, was it sin?

)— I drank, unutterably moved, Her beauty in: And to myself I murmur’d low, As on her upturn’d face and dress The moonlight fell, “Would she say No, By chance, or Yes?

” She stood so calm, so like a ghost Betwixt me and that magic moon, That I already was almost A finish’d coon.

But when she caught adroitly up And soothed with smiles her little daughter;

And gave it, if I’m right, a sup Of barley-water;

And, crooning still the strange sweet lore Which only mothers’ tongues can utter, Snow’d with deft hand the sugar o’er Its bread and butter;

And kiss’d it clingingly—(Ah, why Don’t women do these things in private?

)— I felt that if I lost her, I Should not survive it: And from my mouth the words nigh flew— The past, the future, I forgat ’em: “Oh!

if you’d kiss me as you do That thankless atom!

” But this thought came ere yet I spake, And froze the sentence on my lips: “They err, who marry wives that make Those little slips.

” It came like some familiar rhyme, Some copy to my boyhood set;

And that’s perhaps the reason I’m Unmarried yet.

Would she have own’d how pleased she was, And told her love with widow’s pride?

I never found out that, because I never tried.

Be kind to babes and beasts and birds: Hearts may be hard, though lips are coral;

And angry words are angry words: And that’s the moral.

“FOREVER.

”