As a Splinter Goes

“Why not be content with love?” she asked,
And lingered as the silent pain returned.
Old poets might have found small grace and basked;
Not so in this, regret and training learned.

“If for my love she greets me thus with woes,
And if my reaching heart is all in vain –
I will remove it as a splinter goes,
And future stretch of hope I will disdain.”

Stehekin, Washington, and the north end of Lak...

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