"Do We Understand Each Other"
My love has come to ride me home
To our room and bed.
I had walked the wide sea path,
For my love would roam
In absence long and glad
All through our land of wrath.
We wandered wondrously,
I, still mild, true and sad,
But merry, mad and free
My love was. Look! yet come love hath.
Is this not great gentility?
I only remembered the ocean's roll,
And islands that I passed,
And, in a vision of death and dread,
A city where my soul
visited its vast
Passage of the dead.
My love's eternity
I never entered, when, at last
"I blush with love for thee,"
My love, renewed in anger, said.
Is this not great gentility?
Over the road in an automobile
Rode I and my gentle love.
The traffic on our way was wild;
My love was at the wheel,
And in and out we drove.
My own eyes were mild.
How my love merrily
Dared the other cars to rove:
"But if they stop for me,
Why, then, I stop for them, my child."
Is this not great gentility?