. . .And as men, lost in a morass, feed fast
On berries, lest they starve, and call it food,
Thus, with shut eyes, had Gwendolaine, till now,
Fed on affection and chance tenderness,
And called it by the great and awful name
Of Love, not knowing what love meant. But swift
As light floods darkened chamber, when one flings
The window wide, so her unconscious soul
Was flooded with the strange incoming thought—
In that eternal moment—of true love,
Love as a vital force within the soul,
A strength, a power, an illuming light.
And Sanpeur loved her! O immortal crown.
She was not conscious of her love for him,
Her love for his love was enough for her.

Then she awoke to joy; all things became
Pregnant with deep significance. The sky
Flushed with the coming of the rosy dawn;
The mountains reaching heavenward; the sun
That warmed the flowers, and drank their dew; the birds
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