And never to be mine! he said
Again and yet again;
Blue burned the June day overhead:
But, staring at the stain
Of orange lichen on grey stone,
His eyes saw that, and that alone.

And never to be mine! he said
Again and yet again.
The orange lichen burned to red
In his grief-darkened brain;
And he shrank back with sobbing moan
From wet red blotches on black stone.