Talk of the Heart — An Ending

You answered me once, to a question
that flickered, silent, in my head: —
"Do not fear, my friend: my intentions are pure as snow.
In my palace — no harm if you knew it — thorns are pricking me,
and outside your little house there is no rest for me...
On your seat, and in the shade of your pale light,
I stretch out and close my eyes,
so that nothing greets my senses but your whisper...
You are one of a kind among women;
it is enough for me from you — if you only knew — a proud contentment,
and to wipe from the calm face some of its sorrow..
In the realms of the spirit are my hunger and my thirst!"
You said it to me once, with assurance.
Certainty in the tone of your voice,
and pride upon your handsome countenance.
Then what happened yesterday??
Has your state been changed, and have you forgotten your pledge?
Are you, among men, merely one of them?
Could my ease in your presence be a lying illusion?
...Do not say it is the end,
my friend!