Poem by Lesbia Harford

Love is not love . . .

When I was still a child
I thought my love would be
Noble, truthful, brave,
And very kind to me.
Then all the novels said
That if my lover prove
No such man as this
He had to forfeit love.
Now I know life holds
Harder tasks in store.
If my lover fail
I must love him more.
Should he prove unkind,
What am I, that he
Squander soul and strength
Smoothing life for me?
Weak or false or cruel
Love must still be strong.
All my life I'll learn
How to love as long.

1. A lady and I were walking
2. Suburban Dames
3. You, whom the grave cannot bind
4. A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail
5. How funny it would be if dreamy I

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