What Did It Mean?

What did it mean that noontide, when     You bade me pluck the flower     Within the other woman's bower,     Whom I knew nought of then?     I thought the flower blushed deeplier aye,     And as I drew its stalk to me     It seemed to breathe: "I am, I see,     Made use of in a human play."     And while I plucked, upstarted sheer     As phantom from the pane thereby     A corpse-like countenance, with eye     That iced me by its baleful peer -     Silent, as from a bier . . .     When I came back your face had changed,     It was no face for me;     O did it speak of hearts estranged,     And deadly rivalry     In times before     I darked your door,     To seise me of     Mere second love,     Which still the haunting first deranged?