Through Roosevelt Street, nor stretched his hand
To beg from life its smallest dole.
And yet these two had loved and planned
To happiest end, but for the flood
That wrecks, upreared on rock or sand,
The house of hopes. Thus—cold of mood,
He, loving wholly, could but choose
To deem her heart as his subdued;
While she, as maidens oft-times use,
Denied sweet proofs of love, was fain