VIII

"If I have angered any among them, my own life

                  was sore;

If I fell from their presence, I clung to their memory

                  more:

Their tender I often felt holy, their bitter I some-

                  times called sweet;

And whenever their heart has refused me, I fell

                  down straight at their feet.

                              I have loved," she said,—

                              "Man is weak, God is dread;

            Yet the weakest man dies with his spirit at

                  ease,

Having poured such love-oil on the Saviour's feet,

                        As I lavished for these."