But there were moments when you sang your songs to me, and as my pride knows, my Poet, you will ever remember that I listened and lost my heart.
35
In the morning, when the dew glistened upon the grass, you came and gave a push to my swing; but, sweeping from smiles to tears, I did not know you.
Then came April's noon of gorgeous light, and I think you beckoned me to follow you.
But when I sought your face, there passed between us the procession of flowers, and men and women flinging their songs to the south wind.
Daily I passed you unheeded on the road.
But on some days full of the faint smell of oleanders, when the wind was wilful among complaining palm leaves, I would stand before you wondering if you ever had been a stranger to me.
36
The day grew dim. The early evening star faltered near the edge of a grey lonely sky.
I looked back and felt that the road lying behind me was infinitely removed; traced through my life, it had only served for a single journey and was never to be re-travelled.