It seem’d my sin but grew. It grew in fact:
For on this voyage of life, not seas alone,
But skies—all things about us—mirror back
The souls that they surround. With each to him
That hath, is given back more of what he hath:
One smiles at aught, it gives him back a smile;
He frowns, it gives a frown; he looks with love,
He finds love; but without love, none can find it.
Alas, that men should think one secret fault
Can hide itself. Their sin will find them out.