Yea, she and I have broken God’s command,
And in His sight are branded with our shame.
And yet I do not even know her name,
Nor ever in my life have touched her hand
Or brushed her garments. But I chanced to stand
Beside her in the throng! A sweet, swift flame
Shot from her flesh to mine—and hers the blame
Of willing looks that fed it; aye, that fanned
The glow within me to a hungry fire.
There was an invitation in her eyes.
Had she met mine with coldness or surprise,
I had not plunged on headlong in the mire
Of amorous thought. The flame leaped high and higher;
Her breath and mine pulsated into sighs,
And soft glance melted into glance kiss-wise,
And in God’s sight both yielded to desire.