Two young girls talk late into the night, fond and speculative, covering every subject but death—that one topic they treat as not their business. They imagine themselves handling destinies with the cool authority of gods, as if even God were a quiet guest at their conversation. Most fondly, they dwell on their own future: the soft elevation from girls to women, taking their place in the world. They part with a promise to cherish each other and write letters, but Heaven makes both impossible before another night. The speaker remembers that night with a quiet ache, capturing how intimate the friendship felt, how immense their young self-assurance, and how suddenly mortality could cancel their plans. The mood is tender, wistful, and haunted by the knowledge that one of them never got to grow into the womanhood they so confidently contemplated.
We talked as Girls do -- — Summary
We talked as Girls do -- Fond, and late -- We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave -- Of ours, none affair --
We handled Destinies, as cool -- As we -- Disposers -- be -- And God, a Quiet Party To our Authority --
But fondest, dwelt upon Ourself As we eventual -- be -- When Girls to Women, softly raised We -- occupy -- Degree --
We parted with a contract To cherish, and to write But Heaven made both, impossible Before another night.