Page:Verses–Blanche·Baughan-1898.pdf/146

 Both for the fog, and the upsloping sand, Saw not his hurt; but when he came to kneel He did it hardly, and she, coming close, Found that his side was maim’d; and when she mark’d His cavern’d eyes and miserable mouth, And the deep furrows by the plough of Pain Dug out on cheek and youthful forehead, then Her tender heart rebuked her, slow great tears Well’d in her innocent eyes, and from the breast Whence the wild laughter leapt but now, a sob, A long, deep sob, came bursting. And he took Her sea-stain’d hand to kiss it, but she snatch’d The fingers from him, and she fell and wept Heart-broken on the sand. No Venus, she!

But Leon, thinking that she had but slipp’d On weed or slimy stones, crawl’d to her side; Lifted her, not with ease, for he was lame, And rose, supporting her; and she look’d up—