Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
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Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
 
1561. Her Answer
 
By John Bennett
 
 
TO-DAY, dear heart, but just to-day,
  The sunshine over all,
The roses crimsoning the air
  Along the garden wall!
Then let the dream and dreamer die;        5
  Whate’er shall be, shall be—
To-day will still be thine and mine
  To all eternity.
 
And oh, there is no glory, dear,
  When all the world is done,        10
There is no splendor lasteth out
  The sinking of the sun;
There is no thing that lasts, not one,
  When we have turned to clay,
But this: you loved me—all the rest        15
  Fades with the world away.
 
So little while, so little while
  This world doth last for us,
There is no way to keep it, dear,
  But just to spend it thus.        20
There is no hand may stop the sand
  From flowing fast away
But his who turns the whole glass down
  And dreams ’t is all to-day.
 

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