And you love me 

I love you. 

You are, then, cold coward. 

Aye; but, beloved, 
When I strive to come to you, 
Man's opinions, a thousand thickets, 
My interwoven existence, 
My life, 
Caught in the stubble of the world 
Like a tender veil -- 
This stays me. 
No strange move can I make 
Without noise of tearing 
I dare not. 

If love loves, 
There is no world 
Nor word. 
All is lost 
Save thought of love 
And place to dream. 
You love me? 

I love you. 

You are, then, cold coward. 

Aye; but, beloved --