Chapter XXXV

Then turning from me ere I could prevent
Passed like a shadow from the shadowy room,
Leaving my soul in shadow ... Naught was meant
By my sweet flower of love then! bloom by bloom
I'd watched it wither; then its fragrance went,
And naught was left now.--It was dark as doom,
And bells were tolling far off through the rain,
When from that house I turned my face again.