Verse > Anthologies > Higginson and Bigelow, eds. > American Sonnets
Higginson and Bigelow, comps.  American Sonnets.  1891.
By Julia Boynton
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 sweet a bar
For fear our souls’ true shape should suffer mar.        5
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 trees, Sweetheart,—a space
Between the trees; but after, soon or late,        10
High in the sunny air their spreading boughs
Reach forth and meet. In some celestial place,
When thou and I are tall and fair and straight,
We shall clasp hands again,—if God allows.

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