Lovelier with light, because of him,
And, like a cup of wine, her heart
Was crimson to the brim.
“What shall I call thee?” asked the maid;
“How name thee?” “Clarence is my name,”
Returned the youth—“an honest one,
Though all unknown to fame.
“And how shall I call thee?” quoth he.
“Florence,” replied the maid—“a mean
And humble village girl.” “But fit,”