She interrupts him, speaking impetuously:

But if I lose you, if you part with me,

I will not love you less

Loving so much now. If there is to be

A parting and distress,—

What will avail to comfort or reprieve

The soul that's anguished most?—

The knowledge that it once possessed, perceive,

The love that it has lost.

You must acknowledge, under sun and moon

All that we feel is old;

Let morning flutter from night's brown cocoon

Wide wings of flaxen gold;

The moon split through the darkness, soaring o'er,

Like some great moth and white,

These have been seen a myriad times before

And with the same delight.—

So‘ tis with love — how old yet new it is!—

This only should we heed,—

To once have known, to once have felt love's bliss,

Is to be rich indeed.—

Whether we win or lose, we lose or win,

Within our gain or loss

Some purpose lies, some end unseen of sin,

Beyond our crown or cross.