Her gown of creamy lace—her shining hair,
Her beads of old carved amber ... all her rare
Fragile soft richness, like the berries there
With their pale amber bloom. I loved her so....
I wished that every body there could know....
“Why don’t you eat your berries, Child?” ... then low
I bent my head to hide two burning tears
Of yearning love. How strange those vague cold fears
My child heart knew that day ... what long long years
Since those last lovely hours of ecstasy