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    I.   Table of Contents     III.

Menken, Adah Isaacs

- II.


It is too late, too late!
You may not kiss back my breath to the sunshine.
How can these trembling hands of dust reach up to
bend the untempered iron of Destiny down to my woman
Where is the sedge to split its knotty way between the
past and the Future?
The soaring bird that would sing its life out to the stars,
may not leave its own atmosphere;
For, in the long dead reaches of blank space in the
Beyond, its free wings fall back to earth baffled.
Once gathering all my sorrows up to one purpose--
rebel-like--I dared step out into Light, when, lo! Death
tied my unwilling feet, and with hands of ice, bandaged
my burning lips, and set up, between my eyes and the
Future, the great Infinite of eternity, full in the blazing
sun of my Hope!
From the red round life of Love I have gone down to
the naked house of Fear.
Drowned in a storm of tears.
My wild wings of thought drenched from beauty to the
color of the ground.
Going out at the hueless gates of day.
Dying, dying.

    I.   Table of Contents     III.