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Rh (Holding both hands to him):

Ah! Flavian, I love you sisterly, But I am Hesper to your Phosphoros You lead on joyous dawning, I the night. Your mind is like a wide, a wind swept heath, Fragrant with thyme, athrill with skylark song, But mine most like this sombre Daphne wood, Here blow pale flowers in the shadow'd glades. Jonquil and violet, fair narcissus white, And swooning, heavy headed hyacinth, The flower that crys Alas! for beauty slain, Under the bays and cypress secular Where living springs that murmur to the moss Fed from a fountain flowing from afar Eternal tears for Daphne dead distil. And this I have against you that you live Not for Apollo all, not all for Christ. Strewing your incense with indifferent hand To God of Galilean or Hellene.