Poem by Robert William Service

The Undying

She was so wonderful I wondered
If wedding me she had not blundered;
She was so pure, so high above me,
I marvelled how she came to love me:
Or did she? Well, in her own fashion -
Affection, pity, never passion.

I knew I was not worth her love;
Yet oh, how wistfully I strove
To be her equal in some way;
She knew I tried, and I would pray
Some day she'd hold her head in pride,
And stand with praising by my side.

A Weakling, I; she made me strong;
My finest thoughts to her belong;
Through twenty years she mothered me,
And then one day she smothered me
With kisses, saying wild with joy:
"Soon we'll be three; let's hope, a boy."

"Too old to bear a child," they said;
Well, they were right, for both are dead...
Ah no, not dead; she is with me,
And by my side she'll ever be;
Her spirit lingers, half divine:
All good I do is hers, not mine.

God, by my works O let me strive
To keep her gentleness alive!
Let in my heart her spirit glow,
And by my thoughts for others show
She is not dead: she'll never die
While love for humankind have I.

1. Highland Hospitality
2. Violet de Vere
3. L'Envoi (I guess this is the final score)
4. Afternoon Tea
5. New Year's Eve

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