We Played at Love

We played at love and went our way,
Careless and free, that far-off winter day.
It seemed a brave adventure, or a dream.
How could we know that love was born that day!

How could we know that love hid in a game?
That through the lips of coquetry a flame
Would leap and burn, consuming all the dross
And welding us in Love's enduring flame?

To-day I hold thee close and search thy face
To see if I might find one mocking trace
Of that wild mood that toyed with destiny—
And in thine eyes I only see—my face!
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