The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (9.1896)

Hand and Heart

By Francis Prevost

« / > lean heart—clean hands,” he said, and looked at mine,
And caught them ’ere unclasped ; for one was red
That had besprinkled his white lips with wine :

“ Clean heart—clean hands,” he said.

(What meant it ? He had whispered, on my breast,

Love’s converts should therewith be christened :

And so my hand was soiled at his request.

a Heart’s passover ! ” he’d said).

And then he drew the fingers pale apart,

And with a kiss the cold, stained palm outspread,
And pressed it thus, down o’er his strenuous heart:

“ So hand and heart,” he said.

When, through my thoughts, storm-fire in summer’s night,
Flashed the dolt’s aimless face I had loathed and wed :
He kissed my fingers still, wine-stained and white ;

“ Sweet hands, sweetheart,” he said.

lt Sour