And kissed him; and her lips, he felt,
Were wet with tears.... She wore a crown,
And amethysts, and a pale green gown....
After a while the clock struck three
And Polly beside him, on one knee,
Leaned above him and softly cried,
Wearing a white veil like a bride.
One candle on the sill was burning,
And Faustus sat in the corner, turning
Page after page with solemn care