Fannie Stearns Gifford

NOW you are ugly. You are old.

And you are poorer than a stone.

And you are strong, but glacier-cold.

And you are kind, but dead-alone.

And you—what children never came

To dance like brooks across your heart!

And you—what trumpetings of fame

Blew by, and left you locked apart!

Courageous traitor! masked in steel!

How can you ache so, and yet live?

While I—though stars and sun may reel,

I have had all that life could give.

Oh, do not hate me! Should I too

Be Dearth’s straight-lipped proud body-slave?

Forgive me, when you stare me through,

For never needing to be brave!