But a day came when they declared it. The news entered me as a
sword;
I was broken; so pallid of face that they thought I should faint,
they said.
I rallied. "O, rather than go, I will play you for nothing!" said I.
'Twas in much desperation I spoke it, for bring me to forfeit I could
not
Those melodies chorded so richly for which I had laboured and lived.
They paused. And for nothing I played at the chapel through Sundays
anon,
Upheld by that art which I loved more than blandishments lavished of
men.

But it fell that murmurs again from the flock broke the pastor's
peace.
Some member had seen me at Havenpool, comrading close a sea-captain.
(Yes; I was thereto constrained, lacking means for the fare to and
fro.)
Yet God knows, if aught He knows ever, I loved the Old-Hundredth,
Saint Stephen's,
Mount Zion, New Sabbath, Miles-Lane, Holy Rest, and Arabia, and
Eaton,
Above all embraces of body by wooers who sought me and won! . . .
Next week 'twas declared I was seen coming home with a lover at dawn.
The deacons insisted then, strong; and forgiveness I did not implore.
I saw all was lost for me, quite, but I made a last bid in my throbs.
High love had been beaten by lust; and the senses had conquered the
soul,
But the soul should die game, if I knew it! I turned to my masters
and said: