"But I," he replied, "have
promised
another, when love was free,
To love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves me.
To love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves me.
Elizabeth Browning
"But why do you go? " said the lady, while both sat under the yew,
And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the
sea-blue.
II.
"Because I fear you," he answered;--"because you are far too fair,
And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your gold-coloured hair. "
III.
"Oh, that," she said, "is no reason! Such knots are quickly undone,
And too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but too much sun. "
IV.
"Yet farewell so," he answered;--"the sun-stroke's fatal at times.
I value your husband, Lord Walter, whose gallop rings still from the
limes. "
V.
"Oh, that," she said, "is no reason. You smell a rose through a
fence:
If two should smell it, what matter? who grumbles, and where's the
pretence? "
VI.
"But I," he replied, "have promised another, when love was free,
To love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves me. "
VII.
"Why, that," she said, "is no reason. Love's always free, I am
told.
Will you vow to be safe from the headache on Tuesday, and think it
will hold? "
VIII.
"But you," he replied, "have a daughter, a young little child, who
was laid
In your lap to be pure; so I leave you: the angels would make me
afraid. "
IX.
"Oh, that," she said, "is no reason. The angels keep out of the
way;
And Dora, the child, observes nothing, although you should please me
and stay. "
X.
At which he rose up in his anger,--"Why, now, you no longer are
fair!
Why, now, you no longer are fatal, but ugly and hateful, I swear. "
XI.
At which she laughed out in her scorn: "These men! Oh, these men
overnice,
Who are shocked if a colour not virtuous is frankly put on by a
vice.