At some slight wind—best chance of all!
Be your heart henceforth its dwelling-place
You trembled to forestall!
Worth how well, those dark gray eyes,
That hair so dark and dear, how worth
That a man should strive and agonize,
And taste a veriest hell on earth
For the hope of such a prize!
You might have turned and tried a man,
Set him a space to weary and wear,