Chapter_193

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Though she bare ’neath her zone a God’s pure seed,

Yet the marriage-feast’s coming she would not abide;

Not she of the full-voiced song took heed,

Such song as the young girl-mates of the bride

Merrily chant in the eventide.

But she longed for a love that was otherwhere

With the passion that oft is the soul’s death-snare.

For a people foolish beyond compare

Is found among mortals, who scorn things near,

And gaze upon things that be far away,

And chase an ever-elusive prey

With hopes whose fulfilment shall never appear.