The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iii: Gods And False Gods: Lvi Poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

TO ONE WHOM HE DARED NOT LOVE
As one who, in a desert wandering
Alone and faint beneath a pitiless sky,
And doubting in his heart if he shall bring
His bones back to his kindred or there die,
Finds at his feet a treasure suddenly
Such as would make him for all time a king,
And so forgets his fears and with keen eye
Falls to a--counting each new precious thing:
--So was I when you told me yesterday
The tale of your dear love. Awhile I stood
Astonished and enraptured, and my heart
Began to count its treasures. Now dismay
Steals back my joy, and terror chills my blood,
And I remember only ``We must part.''