Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington

Wrestling

OUR oneness is the wrestlers', fierce and close,
Thrusting and thrust;
One life in dual effort for one prize,--
We fight, and must;
For soul with soul does battle evermore
Till love be trust.

Our distance is love's severance; sense divides,
Each is but each;
Never the very hidden spirit of thee
My life doth reach;
Twain! since we love athwart the gulf that needs
Kisses and speech.

Ah! wrestle closelier! we draw nearer so
Than any bliss
Can bring twain souls who would be whole and one,
Too near to kiss:
To be one thought, one voice before we die,--
Wrestle for this.

1. The Poet’s Tear
2. “Merle Wood”
3. Unperfected
4. O Ye Joys!
5. Revolution

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