n6 MORE POT-POURRI 



I call this passage morbid.' It may be, but the descrip- 

 tion is extraordinarily true to many under the influence 

 of grief, though they fail to analyse or understand their 

 own mental state. 



We all say, we all think, we all know, that ' in the 

 midst of life we are in death ' ; and yet when the blow 

 falls with appalling startlingness on someone who is near 

 to us, how we all must feel with a piercing, heartrending 

 reality ' If I had known ' ! 



If I had known, loyal heart, 



When hand to hand we said ' Farewell,' 



How for all times our paths would part, 

 What shadow o'er our friendship fell, 



I should have clasped your hand so close 

 In the warm pressure of my own 



That memory still might keep its grasp 

 If I had known. 



If I had known when far and wide 

 We loitered through the summer land 



What presence wandered by our side, 

 And o'er you stretched its awful hand, 



I should have hushed my careless speech 

 To listen well to every tone 



That from your lips fell low and sweet 

 If I had known. 



If I had known when your kind eyes 

 Met mine in parting, true and sad 



Eyes gravely tender, gently wise, 

 And earnest rather more than glad 



How soon the lids would lie above, 

 As cold and white as sculptured stone, 



I should have treasured every glance 

 If I had known. 



If I had known that, until Death 



Shall with his fingers touch my brow, 



And still the quickening of the breath 

 That stirs with life's full meaning now, 



