He answers me, 'My dearest dear,'
Yet with a coldness that congeals
My very heart with sudden fear.
And all the while I strive to make
His soul reveal a traitorous thought,
He turns his back on me, as if
To him my trembling fear was naught.
And when about his neck I cling,
He drops his eyes and bows his face,
As if, from thought of other arms