Menken, Adah Isaacs
All this grandeur of glare and glitter has its nighttime.
The pallid eyelids must shut out smiles and daylight.
Then I fold my cold hands, and look down at the rest
less rivers of a love that rushes through my life.
Unseen and unknown they tide on over black rocks and
chasms of Death.
Oh, for one sweet word to bridge their terrible depths!
O jealous soul! why wilt thou crave and yearn for what
thou canst not have?
And life is so long--so long