Page:Demeter and other poems (IA demeterotherpoem00tennrich).pdf/121

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HAPPY
107
The shadow leave the Substance in the brooding light of noon? Or if I had been the leper would you have left the wife?
xxvi.Not take them? Still you wave me off—poor roses—must I go— I have worn them year by year—from the bush we both had set—What? fling them to you?—well—that were hardly gracious. No! Your plague but passes by the touch. A little nearer yet!
xxvii.There, there! he buried you, the Priest; the Priest is not to blame,
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