| IT was the autumn of the year! | |
| The strawberry-leaves were red and sere, | |
| October's airs were fresh and chill, | |
| When, pausing on the windy hill, | |
| The hill that overlooks the sea, | 5 |
| You talked confidingly to me,— | |
| Me, whom your keen artistic sight | |
| Has not yet learned to read aright, | |
| Since I have veiled my heart from you, | |
| And loved you better than you knew. | 10 |
| |
| You told me of your toilsome past, | |
| The tardy honors won at last, | |
| The trials borne, the conquests gained, | |
| The longed-for boon of Fame attained: | |
| I knew that every victory | 15 |
| But lifted you away from me,— | |
| That every step of high emprise | |
| But left me lowlier in your eyes: | |
| I watched the distance as it grew, | |
| And loved you better than you knew. | 20 |
| |
| You did not see the bitter trace | |
| Of anguish sweep across my face; | |
| You did not hear my proud heart beat | |
| Heavy and slow beneath your feet: | |
| You thought of triumphs still unwon, | 25 |
| Of glorious deeds as yet undone; | |
| And I, the while you talked to me, | |
| I watched the gulls float lonesomely | |
| Till lost amid the hungry blue, | |
| And loved you better than you knew. | 30 |
| |
| You walk the sunny side of Fate; | |
| The wise world smiles, and calls you great; | |
| The golden fruitage of success | |
| Drops at your feet in plenteousness; | |
| And you have blessings manifold,— | 35 |
| Renown and power, and friends and gold. | |
| They build a wall between us twain | |
| Which may not be thrown down again. | |
| Alas! for I, the long years through, | |
| Have loved you better than you knew. | 40 |
| |
| Your life's proud aim, your art's high truth, | |
| Have kept the promise of your youth; | |
| And while you won the crown which now | |
| Breaks into bloom upon your brow, | |
| My soul cried strongly out to you | 45 |
| Across the ocean's yearning blue, | |
| While, unremembered and afar, | |
| I watched you, as I watch a star | |
| Through darkness struggling into view, | |
| And loved you better than you knew. | 50 |
| |
| I used to dream, in all these years | |
| Of patient faith and silent tears, | |
| That Love's strong hand would put aside | |
| The barriers of place and pride,— | |
| Would reach the pathless darkness through | 55 |
| And draw me softly up to you. | |
| But that is past; if you should stray | |
| Beside my grave some future day, | |
| Perchance the violets o'er my dust | |
| Will half betray their buried trust, | 60 |
| And say, their blue eyes full of dew, | |
| "She loved you better than you knew." | |
