<h3 id="Perhaps">Perhaps</h3>
<p>THERE was a man, once, and a woman<br/>
Whose love was so entire<br/>
That an angel, watching them,<br/>
Said wistfully, “Would I were no angel<br/>
But a mortal,<br/>
Loving so, and so beloved!”<br/>
. . . . Yet, when these two mated,<br/>
A muddied drop, from some forgotten vial of ancestry,<br/>
Brought them a child whose mind was dark;<br/>
Who lived—and never called them by their names . . .<br/>
. . . . They tended her<br/>
For twenty years.<br/>
Only when she died<br/>
Did they weep, whispering,<br/>
“Why?”<br/>
The years could find no answer,<br/>
Though they went questioning<br/>
Until the end.</p>
<p>. . . . . . .</p>
<p>Still wondering<br/>
They wandered out into the other country . . . .<br/>
It was lonely there,<br/>
Being parted from familiar things,<br/>
And there was no one to answer questions,<br/>
But, suddenly,<br/><!-- Page 134 -->
(As a wind blows or a swallow flies against the sun)<br/>
Came a young girl—eager!<br/>
She ran to them,<br/>
Calling dear names,<br/>
(Names that would open heaven)<br/>
“Who are you?” they entreated, trembling . . . .<br/>
But they knew!—<br/>
Had they not dreamed her so<br/>
For twenty years?</p>
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