Poem by Amy Levy

Impotens

If I were a woman of old,
What prayers I would pray for you, dear;
My pitiful tribute behold--
Not a prayer, but a tear.

The pitiless order of things,
Whose laws we may change not nor break,
Alone I could face it--it wrings
My heart for your sake.

1. On the Threshold
2. The Piano-Organ
3. To Death
4. Philosophy
5. Ralph to Mary

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