A LETTER TO MRS. LAKE

If I had chosen the words with pity,

I could have veiled my courtesy with woe.

Like the spring that had left the dream,

Like the weapon that had not rested on the foe!

So, was your bosom truth-

Better than the coward lie,

For when confronted with life,

It was close to wined lips and did not die!

But the flower should bloom again,

Opined the great sage by the riverside,

So it may be a letter of conscience,

Maybe to you and to the wave at sight!