Which I had borne in bitterness day by day
Was gone, nor could I bring it back, or think
How it had been, or why—this heart so gay
In sudden sunshine could no longer link
Itself with what it was.
Look! Every room
Had blooms your hands had gathered white and pink,
And drained from precious vases their perfume.
And fruits were heaped for me in golden bowls,
And tapestries from many an Asian loom