He had gold. As for the rest—
Well you know how they were set,
Saying that I must forget,
And 'twas for the best.
I forget! but let it go!—
Kiss me as you did of old.
There! your kisses are not cold!
Can you love me so,
Knowing what I am to him
Sitting in his gouty chair
On the breezy terrace where
Amber fire-flies swim?
"Yes?"—Your cheek a tear-drop wets,
But your kisses on my lip
Fall as warm as bees that sip
Sweets from violets.
See! the moon has risen white
As this bursten lily here
Rocking on the dusky mere
Like a silent light.
Let us walk. We soon must part—
All too soon! but he may miss!
Give me but another kiss;
It will heat my heart
And the bitter winter there.
So; we part, my Launcelot,
My true knight! and am I not
Your true Guinevere?
Oft they parted thus they tell
In that mystical romance.
Were they placed, think you, perchance,
For such love in hell?
No! it can not, can not be!
Love is God and God is love,
And they live and love above,
Guinevere and he!
I must go now. See! there fell,
Molten into purple light,
One wild star. Kiss me good-night;
And, once more, farewell!