A Heart Well Worth Winning,

I Took Her Hand In Mine, And We Went Out Of The Ruined Place; And, As The Morning Mists Had Risen Long Ago When I First Left The Forge, So, The Evening Mists Were Rising Now, And In All The Broad Expanse Of Tranquil Light They Showed To Me, I Saw No Shadow Of Another Parting From Her.

The Two Stand In The Fast-thinning Throng Of Victims, But They Speak As If They Were Alone. Eye To Eye, Voice To Voice, Hand To Hand, Heart To Heart, These Two Children Of The Universal Mother, Else So Wide Apart And Differing, Have Come Together On The Dark Highway, To Repair Home Together And To Rest In Her Bosom.

Heaven Knows We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our Tears, For They Are Rain Upon The Blinding Dust Of Earth, Overlying Our Hard Hearts. I Was Better After I Had Cried, Than Before--more Sorry, More Aware Of My Own Ingratitude, More Gentle.

Flora, Always Tall, Had Grown To Be Very Broad Too, And Short Of Breath; But That Was Not Much. Flora, Whom He Had Left A Lily, Had Become A Peony; But That Was Not Much. Flora, Who Had Seemed Enchanting In All She Said And Thought, Was Diffuse And Silly. That Was Much. Flora, Who Had Been Spoiled And Artless Long Ago, Was Determined To Be Spoiled And Artless Now. That Was A Fatal Blow.

The Water Of The Fountain Ran, The Swift River Ran, The Day Ran Into Evening, So Much Life In The City Ran Into Death According To Rule, Time And Tide Waited For No Man, The Rats Were Sleeping Close Together In Their Dark Holes Again, The Fancy Ball Was Lighted Up At Supper, All Things Ran Their Course.