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Man's Devotion

By James Whitcomb Riley

Topics: classic

A lover said, "O Maiden, love me well,     For I must go away:     And should ANOTHER ever come to tell     Of love - What WILL you say?"     And she let fall a royal robe of hair     That folded on his arm     And made a golden pillow for her there;     Her face - as bright a charm     As ever setting held in kingly crown -     Made answer with a look,     And reading it, the lover bended down,     And, trusting, "kissed the book."     He took a fond farewell and went away.     And slow the time went by -     So weary - dreary was it, day by day     To love, and wait, and sigh.     She kissed his pictured face sometimes, and said:         "O Lips, so cold and dumb,     I would that you would tell me, if not dead,         Why, why do you not come?"     The picture, smiling, stared her in the face         Unmoved - e'en with the touch     Of tear-drops - HERS - bejeweling the case -         'Twas plain - she loved him much.     And, thus she grew to think of him as gay         And joyous all the while,     And SHE was sorrowing - "Ah, welladay!"         But pictures ALWAYS smile!     And years - dull years - in dull monotony         As ever went and came,     Still weaving changes on unceasingly,         And changing, changed her name.     Was she untrue? - She oftentimes was glad         And happy as a wife;     But ONE remembrance oftentimes made sad         Her matrimonial life. -     Though its few years were hardly noted, when         Again her path was strown     With thorns - the roses swept away again,         And she again alone!     And then - alas! ah THEN! - her lover came:         "I come to claim you now -     My Darling, for I know you are the same,         And I have kept my vow     Through these long, long, long years, and now no more         Shall we asundered be!"     She staggered back and, sinking to the floor,         Cried in her agony:     "I have been false!" she moaned, "I am not true -         I am not worthy now,     Nor ever can I be a wife to YOU -         For I have broke my vow!"     And as she kneeled there, sobbing at his feet,         He calmly spoke - no sign     Betrayed his inward agony - "I count you meet         To be a wife of mine!"     And raised her up forgiven, though untrue;         As fond he gazed on her,     She sighed, - "SO HAPPY!"    And she never knew         HE was a WIDOWER.

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"A lover said, "O Maiden, love me well,..."

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Author:James Whitcomb Riley

"A lover said, "O Maiden, love me well,..." by James Whitcomb Riley

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James Whitcomb Riley

About James Whitcomb Riley

James Whitcomb Riley (1849–1916) was an American poet known as the "Hoosier Poet." His dialect poems—including "Little Orphant Annie" and "When the Frost Is on the Punkin"—celebrate rural Indiana life and childhood nostalgia.

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