Four Footprints

Here are the tracks upon the sand 
Where stood last evening she and I — 
Pressed heart to heart and hand to hand; 
The morning sun has baked them dry.

I kissed her wet face — wet with rain, 
For arid grief had burnt up tears, 
While reached us as in sleeping pain 
The distant gurgling of the weirs.

"I have married him — yes; feel that ring; 
'Tis a week ago that he put it on. …
A dutiful daughter does this thing, 
And resignation succeeds anon!

"But that I body and soul was yours
Ere he'd possession, he'll never know.
He's a confident man. 'The husband scores,'
He says, 'in the long run' ... Now, Dear, go!"

I went. And to-day I pass the spot;
It is only a smart the more to endure;
And she whom I held is as though she were not,
For they have resumed their honeymoon tour.