The Man And The Woman

She sits by the sweet summer sea

     A conquest of wealth she is making;

And life is all fair, and music is there,

And gusts from the sea play tag with her hair,

     While the waves they are constantly breaking.

He sits by the sad summer sea,

     For an hour had he murmured nor spoken;

For round in the bay sits he, far away,

There is nothing to break, he has nothing to say

     For alas, poor fellow, he’s broken!

July 23, 1899