Page:Demeter and other poems (IA demeterotherpoem00tennrich).pdf/84

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THE RING
Miriam. Poor Muriel!
Father. Ay, poor Muriel when you hearWhat follows! Miriam loved me from the first,Not thro' the ring; but on her marriage mornThis birthday, death-day, and betrothal ring,Laid on her table overnight, was gone;And after hours of search and doubt and threats,And hubbub, Muriel enter'd with it, 'See!—Found in a chink of that old moulder'd floor!'My Miriam nodded with a pitying smile,As who should say 'that those who lose can find.' Then I and she were married for a year,One year without a storm, or even a cloud;
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