In A Year

I.     Never any more,     While I live,     Need I hope to see his face     As before.     Once his love grown chill,     Mine may strive     Bitterly we re-embrace,     Single still. II.     Was it something said,     Something done,     Vexed him? was it touch of hand,     Turn of head?     Strange! that very way     Love begun:     I as little understand     Loves decay. III.     When I sewed or drew,     I recall     How he looked as if I sung,     Sweetly too.     If I spoke a word,     First of all     Up his cheek the colour sprang,     Then he heard. IV.     Sitting by my side,     At my feet,     So he breathed but air I breathed,     Satisfied!     I, too, at loves brim     Touched the sweet:     I would die if death bequeathed     Sweet to him. V.     Speak, I love thee best!     He exclaimed:     Let thy love my own foretell!     I confessed:     Clasp my heart on thine     Now unblamed,     Since upon thy soul as well     Hangeth mine! VI.     Was it wrong to own,     Being truth?     Why should all the giving prove     His alone?     I had wealth and ease,     Beauty, youth     Since my lover gave me love,     I gave these. VII.     That was all I meant,     To be just,     And the passion I had raised,     To content.     Since he chose to change     Gold for dust,     If I gave him what he praised     Was it strange? VIII.     Would he loved me yet,     On and on,     While I found some way undreamed     Paid my debt!     Gave more life and more,     Till, all gone,     He should smile She never seemed     Mine before. IX.     What, she felt the while,     Must I think?     Loves so different with us men!     He should smile:     Dying for my sake     White and pink!     Cant we touch these bubbles then     But they break? X.     Dear, the pang is brief,     Do thy part,     Have thy pleasure! How perplext     Grows belief!     Well, this cold clay clod     Was mans heart:     Crumble it and what comes next?     Is it God?