She leaned far out in the waning light.
He clutched with one hand his saddle-bow
And saw her smile when she answered, "No,"
And spat on his face and strained down on
him.
He rode away 'neath the crescent rim
Of a new-made moon through an olive-grove,
And evil passions within him strove;
In anger he gained the shining sea
Which silvers the shores of Rimini.