1. The morning breeze, you were no spirit, no towering height,
No sweet perfume for you but sighing, wistful plight,

2. Though the garden made you bear its scent, and water gave
The hidden passions of desire a chance to rise and rave.

3. You never told about your brother, though his troth was sure
Binding many plighted faiths, and oaths to reassure,

4. Perhaps since we showed trust in you, you turned aside, grew numb,
The wolves drew after you, the dark your steps would come,

5. Else rights are lost, hopes fail, ties snapped, foundations swept,
Means gone, and structures ruined, purposes unkept.

6. Enough—do not denial now from blame exempt,
For if it still is there, assuredly, it has not left.