I. YEA
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t was-beside the fire that I had lit, Out of the rain that drummed upon my roof,She leant against my bosom, fluttering it, And stared beyond my world, far, far aloof. And neither spoke, and thus we might have satTill angry Gabriel trumpeted for change, But she said, ‘“‘Heart of stone, look not like that!O unconcessive husband, you are strange.” For joy I could not answer, being taxed By such a star, so distant in the sky, With being cold. But think how the poor heart waxed,The chidden wonder of women, the huge I!
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