A Confession
You hold me in your arms as non else may do
All grace your claim I yield as is your right
E’en to my minute spending day and night
Yet oft my secret panel hidden star
Steals forth a little ghost to trystings where
Dear memory is making meadows of white
With spring and in springs fullness of delight
Sings down may sweet lanes some old time air
Never or thought or deed shall wrong you
Though not mine to give you this best part of me
A happy child of long ago in dreams
Dream whose fulfillment all is yet to be
Not yours the soul at last my soul shall know
When I come back no more from memory
FAI 1912
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