John Hay

(8 October 1838 – 1 July 1905 / Salem, Indiana)

On Pitz Languard - Poem by John Hay

I stand on the top of Pitz Languard,
And heard three voices whispering low,
Where the Alpine birds in their circling ward
Made swift dark shadows upon the snow.

First Voice:

I loved a girl with truth and pain,
She loved me not. When she said good-by
She gave me a kiss to sting and stain
My broken life to a rosy dye.

Second Voice:

I loved a woman with love well tried,
And I swear I believe she loves me still.
But it was not I who stood by her side
When she answered the priest and said "I will."

Third Voice:

I loved two girls, one fond, one shy,
And I never divined which one loved me.
One married, and now, though I can't tell why,
Of the four in the story I count but three.

The three weird voices whispered low
Where the eagles swept in their circling ward;
But only one shadow scarred the snow
As I clambered down from Pitz Languard.

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Read poems about / on: snow, girl, believe, kiss, woman, truth, pain, dark, life, women

Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003

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