JUST read this letter, old friend of mine; I picked it up upon Margate Pier, In a whirling world of women and wine; 'T was blotted and blurred with a fallen tear. Come, think one minute of years ago, When the chance was with us -- a soul to save, The whim was in us to love, you know, But the woman, she fell to a fool or knave. "'T is easy to picture the tortured heart That faced despair and a grief like this." She saw her lover unloved depart And turn again to a hateful kiss. "Had I been loved by a man like you" -- O weary woman! O fearful fate! 'T is a passionate cry; but it strikes me through, Who sigh too soon, but who love too late. "Who was the woman?" I seem to trace Her footprints here in Vanity Fair: A mother, perchance, with an earnest face; A wife with a glory of Titian hair; A soul perplexed, and a faith at stake, A life nigh lost -- there are thousands such Who face the world, when their heart-strings break For the one kind word and the tender touch! Who was the man? What matter at all? 'T is man who ruins and sows the tears; 'T is men who tempt, but women who fall, And are never absolved in the deathless years. The least we can do, O brothers, is this; Whilst love is with us, and life seems down, We can soothe the sad with a gentle kiss, And dry the eyes that our sins can drown! Go back, lost letter of wild despair, I will cast you forth on the infinite sea; But the day glides on, and the Margate air Is piercing sweet to the world and me. But still I can never forget -- can you? -- That cry that nothing can soothe or cease; "Had I been loved by a man like you, I had lived far better and died in peace!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOKEN AT A CASTLE GATE by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON FINIS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |