And how my heart was tranced,
For all its lonely ache,
Gazing on mirrored rushes
Sky-deep in the lake.
Said Beauty: "_Me_ you love,
You love her for my sake."




THE QUARREL

Thou shall not me persuade
This love of ours
Can in a moment fade,
Like summer flowers;

That a swift word or two,
In angry haste,
Our heaven shall undo,
Our hearts lay waste.

For a poor flash of pride,
A cold word spoken,
Love shall not be denied,
Or long troth broken.

Yea; wilt thou not relent?
Be mine the wrong,
No more the argument,