There was a hunter, a hunter bold, (Autumn and storm and sea) And he prisoned the bird in a cage of gold, And oh, but the world grew dark and cold, And the days were sad to me.
The hunter has gone; ah, what cares he? (Winter and wind and rain) And the caged bird pines for the air and the sea, And I long for the right to set her free To sing in the sun again.
The hunter has gone with a sneer at fate, (Spring and the sea and the sun) Let the bird fly free to find her mate, Ere the year of love grow sere and late. Sweet ladye, my song is done.
To the song of your muse I have listened. Oh, cease To think of me but as a friend, dear Maurice. Once a wife, a wife alway. I vowed from my heart, "For better, for worse, until death do us part." No mention was made in the service that day Of breaking my fetters if joy flew away. "For better, for worse," a vow lightly spoken, When Fate brings the "worse," how lightly 'tis broken!
The "worse," in my case, is the worst fate can give. Tho' I shrank from the blow, I must bear it and live, Not for self, but for duty; nor strive to evade Fulfilling the promise I willingly made. While Roger has sinned, and his sinning would be, In the eyes of the law, proof to render me free, It was God heard my vows and the Church sealed the bond. Until one of us passes to death's dim beyond, Though seas and though sins may divide us for life, We are bound to each other as husband and wife. In God's Court of Justice divorce is a word Which falls without import or meaning when heard; And the women who cast off old fetters that way, To give place to the new, on the great Judgment Day Must find, in the last summing up, that they stand Side by side, in God's eyes, with the Magdalene band. Dear Maurice, be my brother, my counselor, friend. We are lonely without you and Ruth, at Bay Bend. Come sometimes and brighten our lives; put away The thoughts which are making you restless to-day And give me your strong noble friendship; indeed 'Tis a friend that I crave, not a lover I need.
You write like a woman, and one, it is plain, Whose sentiment hangs like a cloud o'er her brain. You gaze through a sort of traditional mist, And behold a mirage of God's laws which exist But in fancy. God made but one law--it is love. A law for the earth, and the kingdoms above, A law for the woman, a law for the man, The base and the spire of His intricate plan Of existence. All evils the world ever saw Had birth in man's breaking away from this law. God cancels a marriage when love flies away. "Till death do us part" should be altered to say, "Till disgust or indifference part us." I know You never loved Roger, my heart tells me so.