Poems (Freston)/Unrepentent

by Elizabeth Heléne Freston

UNREPENTENT

Of all the fates that crossed my own,—
Of all the men that I have known,
'Tis strange that thou shouldst be
The one to hold the torch of fire
That set aflame my heart's desire,
And made it burn for thee.

I ask not if a love as strong
Meets mine, nor if your heart, as long
As mine, may faithful stay!
With open hands, I give my gold
To the last grain,—nothing withhold,
Nor haggle for my pay.

That heart is poor and weak and small,
That counts each heart throb,—numbers all
The pulsings of its pain.
And, "so much have I given!" say,
"So much on such and such a day,
You must return the same."

You gave me rapture, and I give
Body and heart and soul, and live
Vassal alone to thee.
Love me as long as love is joy,
Nor let one troubled thought annoy,
Nor fear reproach from me.

The world will say that I am wrong,
And often from the soulless throng
Will hiss the word, "Disgrace!"
But when I stand before God's throne,—
Either with you, or quite alone,—
I'll meet Him face to face!

For He must know the soul He made
Was dowered too richly for mere trade
In dull Convention's mart;
Too strong to wear the bonds of creeds,
Too brave to whine o'er perished deeds,
Too true to sell the heart.

"Those who aspire and they who love!"
A poet's pen once strove to prove
The rest are lower down;
And I, who love and who aspire,—
Reach for and snatch Prometheus's fire,—
Smile at each pygmy's frown.