Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 1. 4. Hesitation

            (A PORTRAIT)

To-day I saw the picture of a man
     ⁠Who, issuing from a wood, doth thrust apart
⁠     Strong-matted, thorny branches, whose keen smart
     ⁠He heeds in nowise, if he only can
Win the red rose a maiden, like a fan,
⁠     Holds daintily. She, listening to her heart,
⁠     Hath looked another way. Ah, would she start,
⁠     And weep, and suffer sorrow, if he ran—
For utter love of her, forever back
⁠     Into the shadows, which thrice darker were
⁠     Because her whiteness made their black more black!
A little while he waits, lest he should err.
⁠     Awhile he wonders, secretly.—Alack!
     ⁠He could so gladly die or live for her.