Two

Just two lilies on a stem,—

Easily you had not told

Which the sweeter was of them:

This, wide heart of virgin gold;

That, half shut, fold over fold.

Just two maidens, such as those

Once the sons of God found fair:

This, a blush that comes and goes,

Caught upon the dimples' snare;

That, half hid in dropping hair.

Flesh delicious as a peach;

Voice like bird-song on the wing;

Youth's soft glamour over each:

But the soul,—ah, there 's the sting!

Who of that said anything?