Lives
To drain as the nectar of heaven
The dregs of thy youth's poisoned wine;
To stand in thy shadow forever,
And hold the shade better than shine—
This is mine.
To spurn, lest its burden impede thee,
A love counted once half divine;
To tread on a heart without heeding
In thy struggle up life's steep incline—
This is thine.
Yet in the black hour when death crosses
Life's feebly hedged boundary line,
Which lot wouldst thou choose as thy record,
Closed till judgment, and sealed with thy sign—
Thine or mine?
The dregs of thy youth's poisoned wine;
To stand in thy shadow forever,
And hold the shade better than shine—
This is mine.
To spurn, lest its burden impede thee,
A love counted once half divine;
To tread on a heart without heeding
In thy struggle up life's steep incline—
This is thine.
Yet in the black hour when death crosses
Life's feebly hedged boundary line,
Which lot wouldst thou choose as thy record,
Closed till judgment, and sealed with thy sign—
Thine or mine?
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