II

What? To fix me thus meant nothing? But I can't tell (there's my weakness)

What her look said-no vile cant, sure, about "need to strew the bleakness

"Of some lone shore with its pearl-seed, that the sea feels "no "strange yearning

"That such souls have, most to lavish where there's chance of least returning."

III

Oh, we 're sunk enough here, God knows! but not quite so sunk that moments,

Sure tho' seldom, are denied us, when the spirit's true endowments

Stand out plainly from its false ones, and apprise it if pursuing

Or the right way or the wrong way, to its triumph or undoing.

IV

There are flashes struck from midnights, there are fireflames noondays kindle,

Whereby piled-up honours perish, whereby swollen ambitions dwindle,

While just this or that poor impulse, which for once had play unstifled,

Seems the sole work of a life-time that away the rest have trifled.

V

Doubt you if, in some such moment, as she fixed me, she

felt clearly,

Ages past the soul existed, here an age 't is resting

merely,

And hence fleets again for ages while the true end, sole and single,

It stops here for is, this love-way, with some other soul to mingle?

VI

Else it loses what it lived for, and eternally must lose it; Better ends may be in prospect, deeper blisses (if you choose it),

But this life's end and this love-bliss have been lost here. Doubt you whether

This she felt as, looking at me, mine and her souls rushed together?

VII

Oh, observe! Of course, next moment, the world's honours, in derision,

Trampled out the light for ever. Never fear but there's provision

Of the devil's to quench knowledge, lest we walk the earth in rapture!

-Making those who catch God's secret, just so much more prize their capture!

VIII

Such am I the secret 's mine now! She has lost me, I

have gained her;

Her soul's mine: and thus, grown perfect, I shall pass my life's remainder.

Life will just hold out the proving both our powers, alone and blended:

And then, come next life quickly! This world's use will have been ended.

COUNT GISMOND.

AIX IN PROVENCE.

I

CHRIST God who savest man, save most
Of men Count Gismond who saved me!
Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,
Chose time and place and company
To suit it; when he struck at length
My honour, 't was with all his strength.

II

And doubtlessly, ere he could draw

All points to one, he must have schemed ! That miserable morning saw

Few half so happy as I seemed,

While being dressed in queen's array
To give our tourney prize away.

III

I thought they loved me, did me grace
To please themselves; 't was all their deed
God makes, or fair or foul, our face;
If showing mine so caused to bleed

My cousins' hearts, they should have dropped
A word, and straight the play had stopped.

IV

They, too, so beauteous! Each a queen
By virtue of her brow and breast ;
Not needing to be crowned, I mean,

As I do. E'en when I was dressed,
Had either of them spoke, instead
Of glancing sideways with still head!

V

But no they let me laugh, and sing
My birthday song quite through, adjust
The last rose in my garland, fling
A last look on the mirror, trust

My arms to each an arm of theirs,
And so descend the castle-stairs-

VI

And come out on the morning troop

Of merry friends who kissed my cheek,
And called me queen, and made me stoop
Under the canopy-(a streak

That pierced it, of the outside sun,
Powdered with gold its gloom's soft dun)—

VII

And they could let me take my state
And foolish throne amid applause
Of all come there to celebrate

My queen's-day-Oh I think the cause
Of much was, they forgot no crowd
Makes up for parents in their shroud!

VIII

However that be, all eyes were bent
Upon me, when my cousins cast

Theirs down, 't was time I should present

The victor's crown, but . . . there, 't will last

...

No long time. . . the old mist again

Blinds me as then it did.

IX

How vain!

See! Gismond 's at the gate, in talk

With his two boys: I can proceed.

Well, at that moment, who should stalk
Forth boldly-to my face, indeed-
But Gauthier? and he thundered "Stay!"
And all stayed. "Bring no crowns, I

Bring torches!

"About her!

X

say!

Wind the penance-sheet

Let her shun the chaste,

"Or lay herself before their feet!

"Shall she, whose body I embraced “A night long, queen it in the day? "For honour's sake no crowns, I say!

XI

I? What I answered? As I live,
I never fancied such a thing
As answer possible to give.

What says the body when they spring
Some monstrous torture-engine's whole
Strength on it? No more says the soul.

XII

Till out strode Gismond; then I knew
That I was saved. I never met
His face before, but, at first view,

I felt quite sure that God had set
Himself to Satan who would spend
A minute's mistrust on the end?

XIII

He strode to Gauthier, in his throat

Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth With one back-handed blow that wrote

In blood men's verdict there. North, South, East, West, I looked. The lie was dead, And damned, and truth stood up instead,