Julia P. Boynton
"A young poet residing at South Byron, N.Y., and author
of Lines and Interlines
P. Putnam's Sons.)" (Crandall)
I cannot reach thee; we are far, so far
Apart, who are so dear!
Love, be it so;
Else we might press so close we should not grow.
One doth deny even this so swet a bar
For fear our souls' true shape should suffer mar.
Ah, surface-sundered, yet do we not know
A hidden union in the deeps below?
An intertwining where the strong roots are?
Wise husbandmen plant thus, sweetheart,—a space
Between the trees; but after, soon or late,
High in the sunny air their spreading boughs
Reach forth and meet. In some celestial place,
When we two are grown tall and fair and straight,
We shall clasp hands again—if God allows.
(Text from Representative Sonnets by American Poets)