III
As once through forest shade I went,
I heard a flower call, and bent—
Then strove to go. Should love not spare?
"Nay, Dearest, this is love's sweet share
Of selfishness. For which is best,
To die alone or on thy breast?
If thou hast heard my call,
Take fearlessly, thou art my guest—
To give is all"
Hush! O Love, thou casuist!