To the Friend of My Youth: To Kitty

by Kate Chopin

　　It is not all of life To cling together while the years glide past. It is not all of love To walk with clasped hands from first to last. That mystic garland which the spring did twine Of scented lilac and the new-blown rose, Faster than chains will hold my soul to thine Thro' joy, and grief, thro' life--unto its close.