Eunice Tietjens

From “Facets”

I HAVE seen him, and his hand

Has that slow gesture still.

My tutored heart

That had gone quietly these many months

And happily, securely, beat its way

Glad to be free of the old instancy—

My heart betrayed me.

Cowardly it stopped;

And then it leaped,

And the old Panic hoofbeats thundered in my ears.

Oh, is there then no peace for me

When old love will not die?

And shall I conquer all things,

Thrusting up, through the intolerable pain of growth,

Until my soul

Leaps wingéd to the sunset’s rim—

Only at last to break myself on love,

And fall a-trembling like an aching girl

Because he has a beautiful, slow hand?