I wore it, trembling, and I knew
Nor why it was, in fact, nor how
Its presence fell like evening dew
On shrinking heart, and lip and brow!
It was a thing of pain, and yet
A subtile blessing seemed to flow
From 'neath its touch, though eyes were wet
As from the stab of ruthless foe!
Not until years had fled did I
Behold the inner presence there;