Ahasueras
But tell me of thyself, of thine own dreams!
How wouldst thou love, and how be loved again?
Esther
Who most doth love thinks least of love’s return;
She is content to feel the passion burn
In her own bosom, and its sacred fire
Consumes each selfish purpose and desire.
’Tis in the giving, love’s best rapture lies,
Not in the counting of the things it buys.
Ahasueras
Yet, is there not vast anguish and despair
In love that finds no answering word or smile?
Esther
So radiant is love, it lends a glow
To each dark sorrow and to every woe.
To love completely is to part with pain,
Nor is there mortal who can love in vain.
Love is its own reward, it pays full measure,
And in love’s sharpest grief lies subtlest pleasure.
Ahasueras
Methinks, a mighty warrior, lord or king
Must in thy fancy play the lover’s part;
None else could wake such reverential thought.