LEON
Both for the fog, and the upsloping sand,
Saw not his hurt; but when he came to kneel
He did it hardly, and she, coming close,
Found that his side was maim’d; and when she mark’d
His cavern’d eyes and miserable mouth,
And the deep furrows by the plough of Pain
Dug out on cheek and youthful forehead, then
Her tender heart rebuked her, slow great tears
Well’d in her innocent eyes, and from the breast
Whence the wild laughter leapt but now, a sob,
A long, deep sob, came bursting. And he took
Her sea-stain’d hand to kiss it, but she snatch’d
The fingers from him, and she fell and wept
Heart-broken on the sand. No Venus, she!
But Leon, thinking that she had but slipp’d
On weed or slimy stones, crawl’d to her side;
Lifted her, not with ease, for he was lame,
And rose, supporting her; and she look’d up—
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