English poem
Ix.--Her Love
by Arthur Macy (1842–1904)
Do you love me? R. S. V. P.
TO M. E.
We keep in step as years roll by; You march behind and I before:-- The path is new to you; but I Have passed the ground you're walking o'er. Yet I march on with measured tread, And looking back, I smile and greet you:-- I fear the order, "Halt!" Instead, Would I might countermarch and meet you.