Now all his mind was torn with love of her, Yet from that knowledge he must screen his wife. He could not be that true heart's murderer, Whose love for him transcended love of life. If she once read his soul's sad register, Not long had he bemoan'd the living strife! Her heart was cast in such heroic mould, In martyrdom her passing bell had toll'd. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NORTH WINTER by HAYDEN CARRUTH REPULSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WHEN I WAS A BIRD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: JOHN SCOFIELD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GOD AND MY COUNTRY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: COONEY POTTER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A SCREEN-MAKER by MARIANNE MOORE |