THE LEPER’S BETROTHED.
To 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;
