As passed their understanding, but to her
Seemed natural as the blooming of a flower:
For God taught her—but they had learned of men
The meagre doling of their measured love,
A selfish, sensual love, most unlike hers.
God taught the tendril where to cling, and she
Learned the same lovely lesson, with the same
Unquestioning and pliant trust in Him.
And yet that He should let a lyre of heaven
Be played on by such hands, with touch so rude,