You 'never loved me,' Ada. These slow words br Dropped softly from your gentle woman-tongue br Out of your true and kindly woman-heart, br Fell, piercing into mine like very swords br The sharper for their kindness. Yet no wrong br Lies to your charge, nor cruelty, nor art,-- br Ev'n when you spoke, I saw the tender tear-drop start. br br You 'never loved me.' No, you never knew, br You, with youth's morning fresh upon your soul, br What 't is to love: slow, drop by drop, to pour br Our life's whole essence, perfumed through and through br With all the best we have or can control br For the libation--cast it down before br Your feet--then lift the goblet, dry for evermore. br br I shall not die as foolish lovers do: br A man's heart beats beneath thid breast of mine, br The breast where--Curse on that fiend-whispering br 'It might have been!'--Ada, I will be true br Unto myself--the self that so loved thine: br May all life's pain, like these few tears that spring br For me, glance off as rain-drops from my white dove's wing! br br May you live long, some good man's bosom flower, br And gather chldren round your matron knees: br So, when all this is past, and you and I br Remember each our youth-days as an hour br Of joy--or anguish, one, serene, at ease, br May come to meet the other's steadfast eye, br Thinking, 'He loved me well!' clasp hands, and so pass by.