When I first fancied that I might be dear—
Life was a miracle joyous and grand.
When he first woo'd me with prayers, for his own,
Suddenly came an eclipse of the light:
Sighing, I wish'd he would let me alone;
Smiling, I long'd to hide out of his sight.
Life being lit by a fairy-like gleam,
Sparkling and glittering, tender and pure,
Was not he stupid to change such a dream
Into reality tame and secure?