Part Twenty-Seven
Yet what to her were burning seas,
Or what to him was forest flame?
They loved; they loved the glorious trees;
The gleaming tides might rise or fall,—
They loved the whispering winds that came
From sea-lost spice-set isles unknown,
With breath not warmer than their own;
They loved, they loved,—and that was all.
Or what to him was forest flame?
They loved; they loved the glorious trees;
The gleaming tides might rise or fall,—
They loved the whispering winds that came
From sea-lost spice-set isles unknown,
With breath not warmer than their own;
They loved, they loved,—and that was all.
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