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La Vie C'est la Vie


On summer afternoons I sit
Quiescent by you in the park,
And idly watch the sunbeams gild
And tint the ash-trees' bark.
Or else I watch the squirrels frisk
And chaffer in the grassy lane;
And all the while I mark your voice
Breaking with love and pain.


I know a woman who would give
Her chance of heaven to take my place;
To see the love-light in your eyes,
The love-glow on your face!


And there's a man whose lightest word
Can set my chilly blood afire;
Fulfillment of his least behest
Defines my life's desire.


But he will none of me, nor I
Of you. Nor you of her. 'Tis said
The world is full of jests like these--
I wish that I were dead.

Written by Jessie Redmon Fauset (1882-1961)

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