And when the old man saw that on the green
Leaves of his opening... a blight had lighted
He said:‘ My friend, one grief alone can wean
A gentle mind from all that once delighted:—
Thou lovest, and thy secret heart is laden
With feelings which should not be unrequited.’
And Athanase... then smiled, as one o'erladen
With iron chains might smile to talk (? ) of bands
Twined round her lover's neck by some blithe maiden,
And said...