She stole his eyes because they shone, Stole the good things they looked upon; -- They were no brighter than her own. -- She stole his mouth -- her own was fair -- She stole his words, his songs, his prayer; His kisses too, since they were there. She stole the journeys of his heart, -- Her own, their very counterpart -- His seas, his sails, his course, his chart. She stole his strength so fierce and true, -- Perhaps for something brave to do -- Wept at his weakness, stole that too. But she was caught one early morn! She stood red-handed and forlorn, And stole his anger and his scorn. Upon his breast she laid her head, Refusing to be comforted; "Unkind! Unkind!" was what she said; Denied she stole; confessed she did; Glad of such plunder to be rid; -- Clutching the place where it was hid. -- As he forgave, she snatched his soul; She did not want it . . . but she stole. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORLD AS WILL AND REPRESENTATION' by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE NEW APOCRYPHA: BUSINESS REVERSES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MOTHER EARTH by GEORGE SANTAYANA AN APPEAL TO MY COUNTRYWOMEN by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER A CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER |