<h2><SPAN name="page111"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>IS IT DONE?</h2>
<p class="poetry">It is done! in the fire’s fitful
flashes,<br/>
The last line has withered and curled.<br/>
In a tiny white heap of dead ashes<br/>
Lie buried the hopes of your world.<br/>
There were mad foolish vows in each letter,<br/>
It is well they have shrivelled and burned,<br/>
And the ring! oh, the ring was a fetter,<br/>
It was better removed and returned.</p>
<p class="poetry">But ah, is it done? In the embers<br/>
Where letters and tokens were cast,<br/>
Have you burned up the heart that remembers,<br/>
And treasures its beautiful past?<br/>
Do you think in this swift reckless fashion<br/>
To ruthlessly burn and destroy<br/>
The months that were freighted with passion,<br/>
The dreams that were drunken with joy?</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page112"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
112</span>Can you burn up the rapture of kisses<br/>
That flashed from the lips to the soul,<br/>
Or the heart that grows sick for lost blisses<br/>
In spite of its strength of control?<br/>
Have you burned up the touch of warm fingers<br/>
That thrilled through each pulse and each vein,<br/>
Or the sound of a voice that still lingers<br/>
And hurts with a haunting refrain?</p>
<p class="poetry">Is it done? is the life drama ended?<br/>
You have put all the lights out, and yet,<br/>
Though the curtain, rung down, has descended,<br/>
Can the actors go home and forget?<br/>
Ah, no! they will turn in their sleeping<br/>
With a strange restless pain in their hearts,<br/>
And in darkness, and anguish, and weeping,<br/>
Will dream they are playing their parts.</p>
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