Elizabeth.
I heard, I pure, I virginal, your song;
The shameful story of your intercourse
With—fiend or woman? And your burning will.
Even in that horror, to the Highest; at last
Your choice of me—the middle course of them,
Pure human love? And, if your song be true,
As I, who heard the voice, the earnestness,
Saw the deep eyes, and truth aflame in them,
Know—then the choice be Mary’s and not mine!