Riding in his coach-and-six all on his birthday.”
“But when you spoke of me, of me—oh! what was it he said?”
“Oh, he never said a word at all, but turned away his head.”
Margaret Sackville
THE OTHER
I am the Other—I who come
To heal the wound she gave,
The wound that struck your fond words dumb,
And left your world a grave.
What though you loved her—I love you,