Said tirelessly, “whenever you will reach
And take it. Be the lover you were then,
And take it, take it, take it. Go and be
Her lover; speak the truth as winter once,
As warmness, spoke it for you. Is it late?
Is there a foolish thing that now deforms her?
And for that thing a father? Is it published
That he is the thing’s foolish, foolish father?
Have none of it. Forget these moments since,
And take her. She is yours—see how she weeps