And make of God a tame confederate, 160 Purveyor to their appetites--you know! But still Natalia said they were your friends, And they assented though they smiled the more, And all came round me--that thin Englishman With light lank hair seemed leader of the rest; 165 He held a paper--"What we want," said he, Ending some explanation to his friends, "Is something slow, involved, and mystical, To hold Jules long in doubt, yet take his taste And lure him on until, at innermost 170 Where he seeks sweetness' soul, he may find--this! --As in the apple's core, the noisome fly; For insects on the rind are seen at once, And brushed aside as soon, but this is found Only when on the lips or loathing tongue." 175 And so he read what I have got by heart: I'll speak it--"Do not die, love! I am yours"-- No--is not that, or like that, part of words Yourself began by speaking? Strange to lose What cost such pains to learn! Is this more right? 180 _I am a painter who cannot paint;_ _In my life, a devil rather than saint;_ _In my brain, as poor a creature too:_ _No end to all I cannot do!_ _Yet do one thing at least I can--_ 185 _Love a man or hate a man_ _Supremely: thus my lore began._ _Through the Valley of Love I went,_ _In the lovingest spot to abide,_ _And just on the verge where I pitched my tent,_ 190 _I found Hate dwelling beside._ _(Let the Bridegroom ask what the painter meant,_ _Of his Bride, of the peerless Bride!)_ _And further, I traversed Hate's grove,_ _In the hatefullest nook to dwell;_ 195 _But lo, where I flung myself prone, couched Love_ _Where the shadow threefold fell._ _(The meaning--those black bride's-eyes above,_ _Not a painter's lip should tell!)_ "And here," said he, "Jules probably will ask, 200 'You have black eyes, Love--you are, sure enough, My peerless bride--then do you tell indeed What needs some explanation! What means this?'" --And I am to go on, without a word--