To Atalanta Wedded

Sorrow not, fool, that he's possessed

Implacably your shallow beauty.

What though you pant beneath his breast?-

This is your duty.

Weep not for the lone road you ran

j And the cold winds that sped your going.

- Flinch not to know the touch of man

And the pang of the knowing.

Unstirred beneath the carnal maze

The soul laughs still her chilly laughter;

Down empty corridors she strays,

No lover following after.

Katharin: L. Ward

[141] .