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They stirred not, though the drench matted their hair,
And their two bodies streamed, cold and beaten.
He cried out: “I love you,”
But the words meant nothing.
“No,” she said, “it is not I you love! Not I!”
He was numb with despair.
“But you love me?” he faltered.
“Ah,” she said, “the heart must love, though it love but a dream:
But only a man shall win me.”
“And I,” he said, “am I no man?”
She was silent: he heard the rain on her lowered head …
And he knew himself for what he was.
And their two bodies streamed, cold and beaten.
He cried out: “I love you,”
But the words meant nothing.
“No,” she said, “it is not I you love! Not I!”
He was numb with despair.
“But you love me?” he faltered.
“Ah,” she said, “the heart must love, though it love but a dream:
But only a man shall win me.”
“And I,” he said, “am I no man?”
She was silent: he heard the rain on her lowered head …
And he knew himself for what he was.
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