Winter 1969 • Vol. XXXI No. 1 Poetry |

Two Gentlemen Scholars (A Pastoral)

The scene is a private library in late evening.          FRIEND Tell the whole history which I crave And I'll go, secret as the grave.          HUSBAND Neighbors, in woodland half-begirt With ribbon of silver, mine and hers, We walked like knowing foresters Till I spoke rime, and she looked hurt. Soon she was bride beneath my roof. We walked like pilgrims by the stream, The whiles I sang she took to dream, My younger songster, still aloof. Now we have spent sweet moon together, But Lord! even we must disagree. Shall not bold mariner rule the sea Though sailing in the worst of weather? On one page of my poet's book She wrote a little hateful screed; I could have shook her like a reed But I did bleed her with a look, And thanked her for her kind opinion, That from a girl who wore my ring! I said that some day she might sing But John Donne kept his sure dominion. She flung my ring upon the floor, Exchanging scorns, and went her way. But I

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