From the Albuquerque Morning Journal, August 1, 1915. By Jane Burr.
It seemed so wonder-sweet at last to come back home to him—
My whole soul full of passion and my tired eyes tense and dim;
He touched my fingers lightly in that senseless, jostling crowd,
But the choruses within us both were singing long and loud!
His lips ran on of country-folk, of trains and motor boats,
But all the time our sobbing hearts were beating in our throats.
The highway sped beside us with the springtime in the trees,
But both the hungry hearts in us were sighing with the breeze.
We looked into each other’s eyes and knew that pain was done—
That life had thwacked and pummeled us, but we at last had won.
And who was I to threaten fate and shudder at the cost?
And what cared I for women-folk that he had loved and lost?
And what to him were other lands and smiles and laughs of men?
The only thing that counted was that we were one again!