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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LVI
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TO ONE WHOM HE DARED NOT LOVE
 As one who, in a desert wandering
 Alone and faint beneath a pitiless sky,
 And doubting in his heart if he shall bring
 His bones back to his kindred or there die,
 Finds at his feet a treasure suddenly
 Such as would make him for all time a king,
 And so forgets his fears and with keen eye
 Falls to a--counting each new precious thing:
 --So was I when you told me yesterday
 The tale of your dear love. Awhile I stood
 Astonished and enraptured, and my heart
 Began to count its treasures. Now dismay
 Steals back my joy, and terror chills my blood,
 And I remember only ``We must part.``
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