And when the self-abhorring thrill Is pastas pass it must, When tasks of life thy spirit fill, Then be the self-renouncing will The seal of thy calm trust.

Their love play grown great was very delightful, the love play where thrills were a hindrance to firm embraces, Where their helpless closing of eyes was a hindrance to longing looks at each other, and their secret talk to their drinking of each the other's nectar of lips, and where the skill of their love was hindered by boundless delight.

The trenches, a quarry of prisoners, and the thrill of high praise from the general were theirsa triumph with a bitter taste, for some, creeping back, had found their young lieutenant crumpled where he fell, the moonlight cold upon his blood-stained face.