A hand is offered, and the speaker takes it as something final and sacred—an ultimate word, the very substance of another soul. She cherishes it and treasures it, fully believing in its tenderness. But then comes the revelation: what she held was not a loving hand at all, but a gauntlet, a hard armored glove. The title makes clear that the mistake is her own delusion. The speaker feels a sharp shift from trusting warmth to hurt and self-blame. She calls herself blind, realizing she projected deep feeling onto a gesture that was colder or more formal than she wanted to believe. The mood is intimate and fragile at first, then turns bitter and deflated. It leaves the sting of recognizing you have given your heart to a sign that never meant what you hoped.
Delusion — Summary
You gave me your hand,
I held it to be
The last word, the dear word, The soul’s entity;
I cherished it, treasured it, Only to find
I held but a gauntlet—
That I had been blind!