Now Love in you is as the Sun—a thing80

Beyond you—and your Jealousy's of Earth

A cloud of your own raising.

Arn.‍Not so always!

There is a cause at times.

Cæs.‍Oh, yes! when atoms jostle,

The System is in peril. But I speak

Of things you know not. Well, to earth again!

This precious thing of dust—this bright Olimpia—

This marvellous Virgin, is a marble maid—