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clasp his spirit undefiled, my spirit leaped beneath my hand, He said no sad reproach to me, but only, ‘Love, I understand.’ O coward my eyes that would not see, held slaves ’neath closing finger-tips; O coward my flesh that would not let my spirit’s whisper through your lips.

He might have said, ‘This rose I pulled fell not to pieces at my touch; The robin fled not at my gaze, nor hid from me her feathered clutch; The evening moon arose as fair with my sad face to look upon; The sun withdrew no single ray, caressed me as it shone;