BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



Would you knit the forehead or clench the fist, 

 For the curls that never were well caress'd — 



For the red that never was fairly kiss'd — 

 For the white that never wasfondlypress'd — 

 Shall we nourish wrath while she lies at rest 



Between us ? Surely our wrath shall cease — 

 We would fain know better — the Lord 

 knows best — 



Is there peace between us ? Yea, there is 

 peace, 

 In the soul's release she at least is blest. 



Let us thank the Lord for His bounties all, 



For the brave old days of pleasure and pain, 

 When the world for both of us seem'd too 

 small — 

 Though the love was void and the hate 



was vain — 

 Though the word was bitter between us 

 twain. 

 And the bitter word was kin to the blow, 



For her gloss and ripple of rich gold rain. 

 For her velvet crimson and satin snow — 

 Though we never shall know the old days 



again. 



278 



