She dropped a flower beside my foot,
And said : “Leave the flower that would be yours;
“The mistier mountains love must conquer;
“Think of those – that upright vastness streaked with ice,
“The perilous ridges shelving to the gulfs of snow.
“This flower remains for you when you return,
“Or fading, still a better one will bloom
“As red as blood that stains the snow.
“So do not say goodbye – but go.”