My first well day, since many ill,
I asked to go abroad
And take the sunshine in my hands,
And see the things in pod
 
A 'blossom just when I went in,
To take my chance with pain,
Uncertain if myself or he
Should prove the strongest one.
 
The summer deepened while we strove.
She put some flowers away,
And redder cheeked ones in their stead,
A fond, illusive way.
 
To cheat herself it seemed she tried,
As if before a child
To fade.  Tomorrow rainbows held,
The sepulcher could hide.
 
She dealt a fashion to the nut,
She tied the hoods to seeds.
She dropped bright scraps of tint about,
And left Brazilian threads
 
On every shoulder that she met,
Then both her hands of haze
Put up, to hide her parting grace
From our unfitted eyes.
 
My loss by sickness, was it loss,
Or that ethereal gain
One earns by measuring the grave,
Then measuring the sun?