Poem by William Dean Howells

Change

SOMETIMES, when after spirited debate
Of letters or affairs, in thought I go
Smiling unto myself, and all aglow
With some immediate purpose, and elate
As if my little, trivial scheme were great,      
And what I would so were already so:
Suddenly I think of her that died, and know,
Whatever friendly or unfriendly fate
Befall me in my hope or in my pride,
It is all nothing but a mockery,        
And nothing can be what it used to be,
When I could bid my happy life abide,
And build on earth for perpetuity,
Then, in the deathless days before she died.

1. What Shall It Profit?
2. The Song the Oriole Sings
3. Vision
4. A Poet
5. By the Sea

Ella Wilcox Change ("Changed? Yes, I will confess it – I have changed")

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