I WONDER — is it just to honor you
That we are given this thrice-perfect day,
The purer air, the sky unbroken blue
Down to the Cambridge towers far away?
You have too many other thoughts, I fear,
To care a little how our seasons go,
If it be sunshine or foul weather here
In England, for your birthday: yes, I know,
Only, to me, walking alone— to me,
Asking the west wind what intelligence
He brings to me of you beyond the sea —
It is a matter of more consequence.
I stand, and look across the lowlands under
This lovely smiling Heaven — and wonder.


HAD I the heart to curse, I would curse Love,
Who made me false to that which I loved best,
My path’s one light, the faith I set above
Reason, and chance, and hope, and all the rest.
Not at God’s word would I have hurt my friend,
But Love betrayed me, held me, shut my eyes,
And with my hand struck for his coward’s end,
Changing the vows upon my lips to lies.
Now while I live I will be true to her
Wisely, unquestioningly, as of old.
Loving is sweet, but faith is worthier;
She will not doubt again the faith I hold.
And Love, the fair, the false, the fugitive,
I do not curse — but I do not forgive.