Oh, never a word he answered,
And never a word spake she!
They turned their faces each from each,
And looked upon the sea.
The hands that cannot clasp for life,
Must quickly severed be.
The love that is not large enough
To live eternally,
In true love’s name, for fair love’s fame,
Must die before its bloom;
For it, in all God’s earth or heaven,
There is no garden-room.
Though all the wine of life be lost,
Try well the red grape’s hue.
Holy the soul that cannot taste
The false love for the true.
And blessed aye the fainting heart
For such a thirst shall be—
Yet never a word they spoke, and looked
Upon the bitter sea.
(Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward)
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