As a tired child will lean its head against
Its mother's hand, not all for weariness."
Like two pure souls that on their way to earth
Had met in vacuous space, and recognized
Their kinship with a mystic deep delight
And silence eloquent, so these two pierced
Into the spirit depths of either heart,
With solemn joy, and wonderment, and peace,
Unsatisfied with sight, yet gazing still
Until a sudden shadow dimmed Mark's eyes.
And Agnes, reading it, saw what he feared
For her, and in her ; and she shrank, like one
All wrongfully accused of leprosy,
Half angered and half sad at such a thought.
I, sorely pressed with pain, sang hurriedly
A baby song which she had taught of old: —
"All the little flowers lie dead, dead,
All the little flowers lie dead ;
For the Frost-king came, and he knew no shame,
And all the little flowers lie dead.
"All the little birds lie dead, dead,
All the little birds lie dead ;
