Side by side did we wend down the pass: the wind tangled Mid the trunks and black boughs made wild music about us, But her feet on the scant snow and the sound of her breathing Made music much better: the wood thinned, and I saw her, As we came to the brow of the pass; for the moon gleamed Bitter cold in the cloudless black sky of the winter. Then the world drew me back from my love, and departing I saw her sweet serious look pass into terror And her arms cast abroad—and lo, clashing of armour, And a sword in my hand, and my mouth crying loud, And the moon and cold steel in the doorway burst open And thy doughty spear thrust through the throat of the foeman My dazed eyes scarce saw—thou rememberest, my fosterer?

Yea, Theobald the Constable had watched but unduly; We were taken unwares, and wild fleeing there was O'er black rock and white snow—shall such times come again, son?

Yea, full surely they shall; have thou courage, my fosterer!—     Day came thronging on day, month thrust month aside, Amid battle and strife and the murder of glory, And still oft and oft to that land was I led And still through all longing I young in Love's dealings, Never called it a pain: though, the battle passed over, The council determined, back again came my craving:     I knew not the pain, but I knew all the pleasure, When now, as the clouds o'er my fortune were parting, I felt myself waxing in might and in wisdom; And no city welcomed the Freed and the Freer, And no mighty army fell back before rumour Of Pharamond's coming, but her heart bid me thither, And the blithest and kindest of kingfolk ye knew me. Then came the high tide of deliverance upon us, When surely if we in the red field had fallen The stocks and the stones would have risen to avenge us.     —Then waned my sweet vision midst glory's fulfilment, And still with its waning, hot waxed my desire:     And did ye not note then that the glad-hearted Pharamond Was grown a stern man, a fierce king, it may be? Did ye deem it the growth of my manhood, the hardening Of battle and murder and treason about me? Nay, nay, it was love's pain, first named and first noted When a long time went past, and I might not behold her.     —Thou rememberest a year agone now, when the legate Of the Lord of the Waters brought here a broad letter Full of prayers for good peace and our friendship thenceforward—     —He who erst set a price on the lost head of Pharamond—     How I bade him stand up on his feet and be merry, Eat his meat by my side and drink out of my beaker,     

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