When thinking of his maiden, his own hand
She pressed for greeting ere she took farewell;
The man needs something more.
Rhod.
O happy day!
You hold your wife so dear? Ah, then I beg you
Forgive my close-hugged wrong. I inly fretted
’Twas pride in the possession more than love
Lay in the feeling that enchains you to me,
And your heart’s leaning flame must have the grudge