Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.

Elizabeth Akers Allen 1832–1911

Elizabeth Akers Allen

175 Left Behind

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,

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.

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

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.

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,

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.

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,—

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.

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

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.

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

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,

And say, their blue eyes full of dew,

“She loved you better than you knew.”