“Guess now who holds thee?”—“Death,” I said. But there
The silver answer rang—“Not Death, but Love.”

In these lines, the speaker is challenged to identify the force that “holds” her—an image that can suggest constraint, possession, or the final grasp of mortality. Her immediate answer, “Death,” reflects an expectation that what seizes and confines human life is ultimately death’s inevitability. The “silver answer” that corrects her—“Not Death, but Love”—reverses that fatalistic assumption: love, not death, is the stronger binding power. The tonal shift from the speaker’s dark guess to the bright, ringing reply implies revelation and consolation, presenting love as an agency that can master fear, redefine surrender, and give meaning that outlasts death’s claim.