A Test Of Love

"Now who shall say he loves me not."     He wooed her first in an atmosphere         Of tender and low-breathed sighs;     But the pang of her laugh went cutting clear         To the soul of the enterprise;     "You beg so pert for the kiss you seek         It reminds me, John," she said,     "Of a poodle pet that jumps to 'speak'         For a crumb or a crust of bread."     And flashing up, with the blush that flushed         His face like a tableau-light,     Came a bitter threat that his white lips hushed         To a chill, hoarse-voiced "Good night!"     And again her laugh, like a knell that tolled,         And a wide-eyed mock surprise, -     "Why, John," she said, "you have taken cold         In the chill air of your sighs!"     And then he turned, and with teeth tight clenched,         He told her he hated her, -     That his love for her from his heart he wrenched         Like a corpse from a sepulcher.     And then she called him "a ghoul all red         With the quintessence of crimes" -     "But I know you love me now," she said,         And kissed him a hundred times.