Rose Terry Cooke

February 17, 1827 – July 18, 1892 / West Hartford, Connecticut

Two

How does a woman love? Once, no more,
Though life forever its loss deplore;
Deep in sorrow or deep in sin,
One king reigneth her heart within,
One alone, by night and day,
Moves her spirit to curse or pray.
One voice only can call her soul
Back from the grasp of death's control;
Though loves beset her, or friends deride,
Yea, when she smileth another's bride,
Still for her master her life makes moan,
Once is forever, and once alone.

How does a man love? Once for all.
The sweetest voices of life may call,
Sorrow daunted him, or death dismay,
Joy's red roses bedeck his way;
Fortune smile, or jest, or frown,
The cruel thumb of the world turn down,
Loss betray him, or love delight,
Through storm or sunshine, by day or night,
Wandering, toiling, asleep, awake,
Though souls may madden, or weak hearts break,
Better than wife, or child, or pelf,
Once and forever, he loves-himself.
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