Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/103

 Then, surely, he fell down as one but blind Through sudden fallen darkness, even to grope If haply some least broken he might find Of all the broken ends of life and hope.

Well, out of all his fates now was there none But Death, the utter end; and for no sake, Save for some last love-look beneath the sun, Had he delayed that end of all to take!

But now, because love—armed indeed of him With utter rule of all his destinies— Had chosen even to slay him for a whim, And the mere remnant was none else than his,

And since, for sure, the sorest way of death Were but to die not falling at the feet Of that one woman who with look or breath Could change it if she would and make it sweet;

He chose before all fame he might have caught With death in foremost fighting, now to cling Upon her steps who at this last had wrought His death-wound shameful with a lover's sting.