Chapter V

The lights within the castle were out, and all asleep;
Only, with fever in her brain, the maid would watch and weep.

The chamber door swung open. "Who goes there?" "Do not fear,
Gwen; 'tis I, your foster brother." "Oh! at last, my love, my dear!"

He raised her to the saddle, and his strong arm clasped her round,
As, through the night, his charger white flew on without a sound.

"How fast we go, my brother!" "'Tis a hundred leagues and more."
"How happy am I, happier than in all my life before!

"And have we far to go, brother? I would that we were come."
"Have patience, sister; hold me fast; 'tis a long way to our home."

The white owl shrieked around them, the wild things shrank in fear
As through the night a cloud of light that ghostly steed drew near.

"How swift your charger is, brother! and your armour, oh, how bright!
Ah, no more you are a boy, brother, but in troth a noble knight!

"How beautiful you are, brother! but I would that we were come."
"Have patience, sister; hold me fast; we are not far from home."

"Your breath is icy-cold, brother, your locks are dank and wet;
Your heart, your hands are icy-cold; oh! is it further yet?"

"Have patience, sister; hold me fast; for we are nearly there.
Hist! hear you not our marriage bells ring through the midnight air?"

Even with the word, that ghostly steed neighed suddenly and shrill,
Then trembled once through every limb, and like a stone stood still.

* * * * * * * *

And lo, within a land they were, a land of mirth and pleasure,
Where youths and maidens hand in hand danced to a joyous measure;

A verdant orchard closed them round with golden fruit bedight,
And above them, from the heaven-kissed hills, came shafts
of golden light;

Hard by, a cool spring bubbled clear, a fountain without stain,
Whereof the dead lips tasting, grew warm with life again.

There was Gwennola's mother mild, and eke her sisters dear:
Oh, land of joy and bliss and love!--oh, land without a tear!

VI.

But when the next sun on the earth, brake from the gathered gloom,
From the white church, the young maids bore, the virgin to her tomb.

III.

AZENOR.

"Seamen, seamen, tell me true,
Is there any of your crew
Who in Armor town has seen
Azenor the kneeling queen?"

"We have seen her oft indeed,
Kneeling in the self-same place;
Brave her heart, though pale her face,
White her soul, though dark her weed."