The Second Volume

In the groined alcoves of an ancient tower Amid a wealth of treasured tomes I found A little book, in choicest vellum bound: Therein a romance of such magic power It held me rapt through many a trancëd hour; And then, the threads of interest all unwound, Abruptly closed. I searched that palace round, And for its mate still earth’s preserves I scour. Perchance that was the whole? Then purposeless The pain of conflict, and the bitter doubt But half resolved; love in a dire distress, Deserted, baffled, with its joy left out. Could life so end, half told; its school so fail? Soul, soul, there is a sequel to thy tale!

Collection: 
English
Robert Mowry Bell

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