8ACCOLON OF GAUL.



But then-my God! my God! thus these were left!
I knew then stil ! but of that song bereft-
That rapturous wonder grasping after grief-
Beyond all thou ht-weak thought that would be thief."
And bowed and wept into his hands and she
Sorrowful beheld; and resting at her knee
Raised slow her oblong lute and smote its chords;
But ere the impulse saddened into words
Said: "rAnd didst love me as thy lips have spake
No visions wrought of sleep might such love shake.
Fast is all Love ;n fastness of his power,
With flame reverberant moated stands his tower;
Not so built as to chink from fact a beam
Of doubt and much less of a doubt from dream;
Sac/h, the alchemic fires of Love's desires,
Which hu- this like a snake, melt to gold wires
To chord the old Iyre new whereon he lyres."
So ceased and then, sad softness in her eye
Sang to his drearm a questioning reply:

  'Will love grow less when dead the roguish Spring,
    Who from gay eyes sowed violets whispering;
    Peach petals i-l wild cheeks, wvan-wasted thro'
    Of with-ring grief, laid lovely 'neath the dew,
                Will love grow less
  "Will love grow less when comes queen Summer tall,
  Her throat a lily long and spiritual;
  Rich as the pop)pied swaths-droned haunts of bees-
  Her checks, a brown maid's gleaning on the leas,
               Will love grow less



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