Or holds a lute on her neglected skirt,
  And tries to sing of me, and tries in vain;
    For she dries the tear-wet string with hands inert,
  And e’er begins, and e’er forgets again,
  Though she herself composed it once, the loving strain.

  XXIV

  Here is suggested the third stage:  Desire.

    Or counts the months of absence yet remaining
  With flowers laid near the threshold on the floor,
    Or tastes the bliss of hours when love was gaining
  The memories recollected o’er and o’er—­
  woman’s comforts when her lonely heart is sore.

  XXV

  Here is suggested the fourth stage:  Wakefulness.

    Such daytime labours doubtless ease the ache
  Which doubly hurts her in the helpless dark;
    With news from me a keener joy to wake,
  Stand by her window in the night, and mark
  My sleepless darling on her pallet hard and stark.

  XXVI

  Here is suggested the fifth stage:  Emaciation.

    Resting one side upon that widowed bed,
  Like the slender moon upon the Eastern height,
    So slender she, now worn with anguish dread,
  Passing with stifling tears the long, sad night
  Which, spent in love with me, seemed but a moment’s flight.

  XXVII

  Here is suggested the sixth stage:  Loss of
  Interest in Ordinary Pleasures.

    On the cool, sweet moon that through the lattice flashes
  She looks with the old delight, then turns away
    And veils her eyes with water-weighted lashes,
  Sad as the flower that blooms in sunlight gay,
  But cannot wake nor slumber on a cloudy day.

  XXVIII

  Here is suggested the seventh stage:  Loss of
  Youthful Bashfulness.

    One unanointed curl still frets her cheek
  When tossed by sighs that burn her blossom-lip;
    And still she yearns, and still her yearnings seek
  That we might be united though in sleep—­
  Ah!  Happy dreams come not to brides that ever weep.

  XXIX

Here is suggested the eighth stage:  Absent-mindedness.  For if she were not absent-minded, she would arrange the braid so as not to be annoyed by it.

    Her single tight-bound braid she pushes oft—­
  With a hand uncared for in her lonely madness—­
    So rough it seems, from the cheek that is so soft: 
  That braid ungarlanded since the first day’s sadness,
  Which I shall loose again when troubles end in gladness.

  XXX

  Here is suggested the ninth stage:  Prostration. 
  The tenth stage, Death, is not suggested.

    The delicate body, weak and suffering,
  Quite unadorned and tossing to and fro
    In oft-renewing wretchedness, will wring
  Even from thee a raindrop-tear, I know—­
  Soft breasts like thine are pitiful to others’ woe.