XXXV
Then turning from me ere I could prevent
Passed like a shadow from the shadowy room,
Leaving my soul in shadow.... Naught was meant
By my sweet flower of love then! bloom by bloom
I'd watched it wither; then its fragrance went,
And dust it was now.... It was dark as doom,
And bells seemed ringing far off in the rain,
When from that house I turned my face again.