To cull the waterlily there afloat."
It was not chance, belov'd. And still you would not note.
I have done all a woman may do, dear,
With eyes and hands and tones of voice have spoken,
In all but words have given you the token
And seal of love. What is it then you fear?
Can you not take one step, the goal being now so near?
Just the last word to utter, just the last
Step to be taken—it is very little!
Can you believe Love's structure is so brittle?