PITY ME NOT!

Cruel and fair! within thy hollowed hand My heart is lying as a little rose, So faint and faded, scarce could one suppose It might look in thine eyes and understand The song they sing unto a weary land, Making it radiant, yet because I dare, To love thee, being weak, lose not thine air Of passive distance, fateful and most grand.

Pity me not, nor turn away awhile Till absence's cloud has caught my passion up. Ah, be not kind! for love's sake, be not kind! Grant me the tragic deepness of the cup, And when thine eyes have flashed and made me blind, Kill me beneath the shadow of thy smile.