Love’s Compensation

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Love’s Compensation

I went before God, and he said,

“What fruit of the life I gave?”

“Father,” I said, “it is dead,

And nothing grows on the grave.”

Wroth was the Lord and stern:

“Hadst thou not to answer me?

Shall the fruitless root not burn,

And be wasted utterly?”

“Father,” I said, “forgive!

For thou knowest what I have done;

That another’s life might live

Mine turned to a barren stone.”

But the Father of Life sent fire

And burned the root in the grave;

And the pain in my heart is dire

For the thing that I could not save.

For the thing it was laid on me

By the Lord of Life to bring;

Fruit of the ungrown tree

That died for no watering.

Another has gone to God,

And his fruit has pleased Him well;

For he sitteth high, while I⁠—plod

The dry ways down towards hell.

Though thou knowest, thou knowest, Lord,

Whose tears made that fruit’s root wet;

Yet thou drivest me forth with a sword,

And thy Guards by the Gate are set.

Thou wilt give me up to the fire,

And none shall deliver me;

For I followed my heart’s desire,

And I labored not for thee:

I labored for him thou hast set

On thy right hand, high and fair;

Thou lovest him, Lord; and yet

’Twas my love won Him there.

But this is the thing that hath been,

Hath been since the world began⁠—

That love against self must sin,

And a woman die for a man.

And this is the thing that shall be,

Shall be till the whole world die,

Kismet:⁠—My doom is on me!

Why murmur since I am I?