Page:War and Love.djvu/88

 Take me also, make me yours, as a woman

Who knows love's torture, who is burned with the same burning,

Only can take the lover herself has chosen

Until his broken sobs mix with her love-plaint.

Take me thus and I care not if death come after,

For to-night there shall be no tears, no wearing sorrow,

Only our kisses and whispers and stabbing heart-beats.