She stands smiling at him. She speaks:

How many words in the asking!

How easily I can grieve you!—

My “no” in a “yes” was a-masking,

Nor thought, dear, to deceive you.—

A kiss?— the humming-bird happiness here

In my heart consents.... But what are words,

When the thought of two souls in speech accords?

Affirmative, negative — what are they, dear?

I wished to say “yes,” but somehow said “no.”

The woman within me thought you would know

Thought that your heart would hear.

So many hopes in a wooing!—

Therein you could not deceive me;

Some things are sweeter for the pursuing —

I knew what you meant, believe me.—

Bunched bells of the blush pomegranate, to fix

At your throat... six drops of fire they are....

Will you look where the moon and its following star

Rise silvery over yon meadow ricks?

While I hold — while I lean your head back, so —

For I know it is “yes” though you whisper “no,”

And my kisses, sweet, are six.