Through love? No; the woman! that visible woman
Men usually know.—None knows how we know
Of an innermore beauty! that part of the human
We designate character.—Look at the bow
Of the moon that is new; that bears in its crescent
A world.—So the flesh gleams the slenderest line
Of soul; that is love; the unevanescent,
Making the mortal immortal, divine.
IV
Yes; I know what I am. Have outlasted my season