He loved her and he was untrue— <br />Untrue he was, let loved her still; <br />For out of nether darkness drew <br />The winds that lashed his wandering will. <br /> <br />She lived in joy all unaware, <br />In pain and joy his children bore, <br />While hidden spectres of despair <br />Drove him to love her more and more. <br /> <br />And when she knew the truth at last, <br />Suddenly she grew still and strange. <br />Her rag of haggard youth was cast <br />Upon the evil winds of change. <br /> <br />She heard, and could not understand; <br />She paled, and could not bloom again. <br />So bland death took her by the hand, <br />Looked in her eyes and made all plain, <br /> <br />Yes, wise death taught her all, and so, <br />Smiling once more, she kissed and passed. <br />And he, caught in life's overthrow, <br />Faced love and death alone at last. <br /> <br />At last, made strong by love and death, <br />He gave her truth for truth, and knew <br />Now she had won his perfect faith. <br />Dying, she doomed him to be true.<br /><br />Harriet Monroe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-story-19/
