III

When God on that sin had pity, and did not

                  trample thee straight,

With His wild rains beating and drenching thy

                  light found inadequate;

When He only sent thee the north-winds, a little

                  searching and chill,

To quicken thy flame.. didst thou kindle and flash

                  to the heights of His will?

                              "I have sinned," she said,

                              "Unquickened, unspread,

            My fire dropt down; and I wept on my knees!

I only said of His winds of the north, as I shrank

                  from their chill,..

                        What delight is in these?"