What Gain? by Ella Wheeler Wilcox — Read

Now, while thy rounded cheek is fresh and fair, / While beauty lingers, laughing, in thine eyes, / Ere thy young heart shall meet the stranger, "Care," / Or thy blithe soul become the home of sighs, / Were it not kindness should I give thee rest / By plunging this sharp dagger in thy breast? / Dying so young, with all thy wealth of youth, / What part of life wouldst thou not claim, in sooth? / Only the woe, / Sweetheart, that sad souls know.

Now, in this sacred hour of supreme trust, / Of pure delight and palpitating joy, / Ere change can come, as come it surely must, / With jarring doubts and discords, to destroy / Our far too perfect peace, I pray thee, Sweet, / Were it not best for both of us, and meet, / If I should bring swift death to seal our bliss? / Dying so full of joy, what could we miss? / Nothing but tears, / Sweetheart, and weary years.