Marjorie Boulton
Souvenir
I broke her heart. I struck her blind.
I never willed it. This was fate.
And now I know with strange delight
I broke her heart but not her mind
And her unbreakable mind of late
Now builds in stone to such a height
Unscaled, that now the shadow’s length
Is all men have to calculate
This monument that speaks my strength,
And all the mind and art are mine
And all this permanent symmetry
And thus she builds a pyramid
Over my mortal memory,
A prism of sharp and powerful line
Built by her groping, broken hands,
All for my honour standing high on
Horizons where a burning lid
Covers the enigmatic lion
And dries the sliding tawny sands.
Page(s) 159
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