Ii

JEAN by herself, undressing. Yes, he's the man. Jean, my girl, you're done for, At last you're done for, the good God be thankt.-- That was a wonderful look he had in his eyes: 'Tis a heart, I believe, that will burn marvellously! Now what a thing it is to be a girl! Who'ld be a man? Who'ld be fuel for fire And not the quickening touch that sets it flaming?-- 'Tis true that when we've set him well alight (As I, please God, have set this Morris burning) We must be serving him like something worshipt; But is it to a man we kneel? No, no; But to our own work, to the blaze we kindled! O, he caught bravely. Now there's nothing at all So rare, such a wild adventure of glee, As watching love for you in a man beginning;-- To see the sight of you pour into his senses Like brandy gulpt down by a frozen man, A thing that runs scalding about his blood; To see him holding himself firm against The sudden strength of wildness beating in him! O what my life is waiting for, at last Is started, I believe: I've turned a man To a power not to be reckoned; I shall be Held by his love like a light thing in a river!