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• He turned his face about, and gave a sigh
• And a strange whimper—such a pitiful thing
• As haunteth one for days. “Yes, Love can bring
• Unto a pass so low that it seems high:
• And when we see a brave and strong man cry
• With a poor infant's feeble sorrowing,
• It is much nobler than when he doth wing
• Shafts of small angers and small prides,” thought I.
• There is a Love so deaf that it can hear
• 10 Not even its own voice which bids it seek
• A name for its own meanness: it would find
• That mean name else. But thus, it is a sheer
• Humility—an earnestness so meek
• That your knees bow and sharp tears make you blind.

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G.