Chapter XI

The selfishness of grief! ... and yet each turning And questing after some new brave relief Shows other steel stretched forth and on me burning The selfishness of grief.

Till self who was my God and love, my chief, Even these turn from my side with footsteps spurning As, stooping low, I lift the heavy sheaf

Of our flowered hours gathered with our yearning, Gathered so wildly in our happy fief And glimmering beautiful beyond belief, With dazing fragrance, till my dim discerning Sees them the legend dropped for my unlearning The selfishness of grief!

THE LONG ABSENCE