PASSION AND LOVE
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maiden wept and, as a comforter,Came one who cried, "I love thee," and he seizedHer in his arms and kissed her with hot breath,That dried the tears upon her flaming cheeks.While evermore his boldly blazing eyeBurned into hers; but she uncomfortedShrank from his arms and only wept the more. Then one came and gazed mutely in her faceWith wide and wistful eyes; but still aloofHe held himself; as with a reverent fear,As one who knows some sacred presence nigh.And as she wept he mingled tear with tear,That cheered her soul like dew a dusty flower,--Until she smiled, approached, and touched his hand!
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