And turn her into marble with the touch.
But yet the gentler passion is the stronger.
Go to her, tell her in some tenderest phrase
That will not hurt too much—ah, but ’twill hurt!
Just how your happiness lies in her hand
To make or mar for all time; hint, not say,
Your heart is gone from you, and you may find—
He. A casement in St. Peter and St. Paul
For, say, a month; then some Siberian town.
Not this way lies escape. At my first word