Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.
The First Food
M
From thy young breast my groping lips were taken,
Their hunger stilled, so soon again to waken,
But nevermore that holy food to know.
Ah! nevermore! through years unkind and dreary!
Often of other fare my lips are weary,
Unwearied once of what thy bosom gave.
At what unhappy revels has it eaten
The viands that no memory can sweeten,—
The banquet found eternally the same!)
And tendrils broke that held us two how dearly!
Once infinitely thine, then hourly, yearly,
Less thine, as less the worthy thine to be.
Were lies so sweet, now bitter to remember?
Slow sinks the flame unfaithful to an ember;
New beauty fades and passion’s wine is thin.)
And all the love I had not from another!
Peace to thine unforgetting heart, O Mother,
Who gav’st the dear and unremembered food!