I WHILE I stood listening, discreetly dumb, Lorraine was having the last word with me: "I know," she said, "I know it, but you see Some creatures are born fortunate, and some Are born to be found out and overcome,-- Born to be slaves, to let the rest go free; And if I'm one of them (and I must be) You may as well forget me and go home. "You tell me not to say these things, I know, But I should never try to be content: I've gone too far; the life would be too slow. Some could have done it--some girls have the stuff; But I can't do it: I don't know enough. I'm going to the devil."--And she went. II I DID not half believe her when she said That I should never hear from her again; Nor when I found a letter from Lorraine, Was I surprised or grieved at what I read: "Dear friend, when you find this, I shall be dead. You are too far away to make me stop. They say that one drop--think of it, one drop!-- Will be enough,--but I'll take five instead. "You do not frown because I call you friend, For I would have you glad that I still keep Your memory, and even at the end-- Impenitent, sick, shattered--cannot curse The love that flings, for better or for worse, This worn-out, cast-out flesh of mine to sleep." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CONFESSIONAL by ROBERT BROWNING A POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER by ROBERT BURNS DAMON THE MOWER by ANDREW MARVELL PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 34. AL-'AZIZ by EDWIN ARNOLD MAN AND WOMAN GO THROUGH THE CANCER WARD by GOTTFRIED BENN THE PASSION FLOWER by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN |