Trilled her song and swelled her song with maiden coy caprice
In a labyrinth of throbs, pauses, cadences:
Clear-noted as a dropping brook, soft-noted like the bees,
Wild-noted as the shivering wind forlorn through forest trees:
Love-noted like the wood-pigeon who hides herself for love,
Yet cannot keep her secret safe, but cooes and cooes thereof;
Thus the notes rang loud or low.
He hung breathless on her breath; speechless, who listened well;
Could not speak or think, or wish till silence broke the spell.
Then he spoke and spread his hands, pointing here and there: