Xi

"Sweet ignorance, 'tis sad and hard To break thy fond confiding spell; And my soft heart hath such regard For thine, that I will never tell What may be spared."

He turned aside, o'erwhelmed with pain, And drew a sigh of deep compassion: She trembled, flushed, and gazed again, And prayed him quick, in woman's fashion, To speak it plain:

"Then, if thou must be taught to grieve, And scorn the guile thou hast adored-- The man who calls himself thy lord, Where goes he, every eve?"