The Test

I HELD her hand, the pledge of bliss,
—Her hand that trembled and withdrew;
She bent her head before my kiss . . .
—My heart was sure that hers was true.
Now I have told her I must part,
—She shakes my hand, she bids adieu,
Nor shuns the kiss. Alas, my heart!
—Hers never was the heart for you.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.