My Heart and I

I.


ENOUGH ! we're tired, my heart and I.

We sit beside the headstone thus,

And wish that name were carved for us.

The moss reprints more tenderly

The hard types of the mason's knife,

As heaven's sweet life renews earth's life

With which we're tired, my heart and I.


II.


You see we're tired, my heart and I.

We dealt with books, we trusted men,

And in our own blood drenched the pen,

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