Through its ancient poison, was death, I knew.—
If true that she loved me—then!—And quick
To the unspoken thought she replied, "'Tis true!
I have loved you long, and my soul was sick,
"Sick for the love that has made me weak,
Weak to your will even now!"—And more
She said, in my arms, that I will not speak—
And the dagger there on the polished floor
Ever her eyes, while she spoke, would seek.
"'And it came to pass on the wedding-day'"—