So like a wounded deer I came to thee,
The arrow of mischance piercing my side;
And through thy sorrow-healing ministry
I rose with strength, like giants in their pride.
But now—but now—how shall I stand alone,
Knowing the light, the hope of me is gone?
DAHIN
O brow, so fronted with a stately calm,
O full completeness of true womanhood,
O counsel, pleader for all highest good,
Thou hast upon my sorrow poured thy balm!
Poor soldier he who did not raise his sword,
And, touching with his lips the hilt-cross, swear
In war or peace the livery to wear
Of one that blessed him with her queenly word.
Most base crusader, who at night and morn
Crying Dahin, thought not of her again
From whose sweet power was his knighthood born,
For whom he quells the valiant Saracen.
Shall I not, then, in the tumultuous place
Of my life's warfare ever seek thy face?
LOVE'S USURY
Here count I over all the gentle deeds
Which thou hast done; here summon I thy words,
Sweeter to me than sweetest song of birds;
That came like grace immortal to my needs.
Love's usury has reckoned such a sum
Of my indebtedness, that I can make
No lien large enough to overtake
Its value—and before it I am dumb!