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				Title:     Nepenthe 
			    
Author: Henry Van Dyke [
More Titles by Van Dyke]		                
			    
Yes, it was like you to forget,
 And cancel in the welcome of your smile
 My deep arrears of debt,
 And with the putting forth of both your hands
 To sweep away the bars my folly set
 Between us--bitter thoughts, and harsh demands,
 And reckless deeds that seemed untrue
 To love, when all the while
 My heart was aching through and through
 For you, sweet heart, and only you.
 Yet, as I turned to come to you again,
 I thought there must be many a mile
 Of sorrowful reproach to cross,
 And many an hour of mutual pain
 To bear, until I could make plain
 That all my pride was but the fear of loss,
 And all my doubt the shadow of despair
 To win a heart so innocent and fair;
 And even that which looked most ill
 Was but the fever-fret and effort vain
 To dull the thirst which you alone could still.
 But as I turned, the desert miles were crossed,
 And when I came, the weary hours were sped!
 For there you stood beside the open door,
 Glad, gracious, smiling as before,
 And with bright eyes and tender hands outspread
 Restored me to the Eden I had lost.
 Never a word of cold reproof,
 No sharp reproach, no glances that accuse
 The culprit whom they hold aloof,--
 Ah, 'tis not thus that other women use
 The empire they have won!
 For there is none like you, beloved,--none
 Secure enough to do what you have done.
 Where did you learn this heavenly art,--
 You sweetest and most wise of all that live,--
 With silent welcome to impart
 Assurance of the royal heart
 That never questions where it would forgive?
 None but a queen could pardon me like this!
 My sovereign lady, let me lay
 Within each rosy palm a loyal kiss
 Of penitence, then close the fingers up,
 Thus--thus! Now give the cup
 Of full nepenthe in your crimson mouth,
 And come--the garden blooms with bliss,
 The wind is in the south,
 The rose of love with dew is wet--
 Dear, it was like you to forget!
[The end]
Henry Van Dyke's poem: Nepenthe
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