Unseen hands crocuses and jonquils fling,
I see the splendors of immortal Spring
And know ’tis but reflection of my heart—
Eternal Spring dwells where enthroned thou art.
LIII
You took my fingers—thus—and bent them back,
Slowly, then one by one, giving to each
Some special love-name from your Spanish speech—
“Muy cariñoso,”—sadly said—Alack!
Plucked them as petals from your passion’s track,