Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1913-29 and Yearbook of American Poetry - Tapa blanda

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1919. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... How can it be, since through you, dear, I have learned the ritual of love, And knew it not save through you, That you would teach another, or share The ritual with her? No, dear, it must not be. For I shall think of you by day, Day by day. And dream of you by night, Night by night. And sleep beneath the blankets you gave me, And keep your picture under my pillow, So blest for your love. And save the money you gave me, And save the money you send me For our child to be when I return, Our child to be born, when I return. So that you and I shall not go down To the silence of those unborn. And I shall be faithful and true to you In word, in deed, not knowing change With the hour, or mood, As I have been faithful and true from the first. And keep our secret from all ears, Lest it be soiled by idle words. Thus I go to the war for you. And Paul, who has drawn from memory The voice of Bonnybell in these words, As he reads the letters, looks at her And shakes his head with a sigh: Be faithless to you, Bonnybell, Betray you, Bonnybell? I will die ere I do it, Bonnybell! Fail to sustain you, Bonnybell With love and letters and constant thought! Though it drain my spirit dry, While the breath is in me, Bonnybell, My soul is yours. And he bends above her and kisses her. Then kneels by the bed and prays for her. Then rises and goes to the dresser And tosses the letters into the bag. But as he tosses the letters in His eye rests on the diary. What has Bonnybell written, he wonders, Of their great delights, their meetings, From the very first time When she came like a bride in virginal beauty To this hour of love and peace? So he takes the diary out, Clinking the alum against the cloisonne box Of powder or rouge, Returns to the edge of the bed And turns the diary's pages. And t...