They said to her. "He loves thee not, he speaks
False vows, he plays but with thee." Then she grieved
And bowed her head, and tears pearled from her cheeks,
Like dew from roses. Oh, that she believed!
For when he came, and saw her doubting mood,
His heart grew wayward: not to show his sorrow,
He sang, and played, and drank, and laughed aloud—
Then wept in secret till the morrow.
"He is not false, give him thy hand again!"
Thus a good angel still her heart doth move.