Explore "The Egoists" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
TWO strangers, from opposing poles, / Meet in the torrid zone of Love: / And their desire seems set above / The limitation of their souls.
This is the trap; this is the snare, / This is the false, enchanting light, / And when it smoulders into night, / How can each know the other is there?
They own no bond of common speech; / Each, from far shores by wild winds brought, / Gropes for some cord of common thought / To draw the other within reach.
Each when the dark tide drowns their star, / Cries out, "Thou art not one with me: / One flesh we seemed when eyes could see, / But now, how far thou art! How far!"
Each calling, "Come! be mine! be wise! " / Stands obstinately in his place, / How can these two come face to face, / Till light spring from their meeting eyes?
Could both but once cry, "Far thou art, / But I am coming! " How the beat / Of waves that part them would retreat, / Resurge and find them, heart to heart!