A Lover's Answer, A Taxed Refrain After Madeleine Bridges Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Yes, I had feared ere your hard head was known,
I do confess it, - ere my life seemed pressed
as is a lemon, dropp by precious drop.
But mark, Dear Sir, the forecast's not the crop,
but only hopes on human error spent.
I feel like hell, and now know what it meant
when marking down those profits which, unwon,
I sought below the line's lost horizon...

A Lover's Answer

Yes, I had feared ere your dear face was known.
I do confess it, - and my life seemed set
in tender radiance, as if moonlight shone.
But mark, sweetheart! ... the moon is not the sun.
'Tis but, and always, radiance that is lent!
I felt the spell, but knew it only meant
a reflex of the greater love, unwon,
waiting beneath my soul's dim horizon!