hands led down the weary way.

They spoke to me of war within the land, They bade me sign defiance and command; I heeded not though thy name left my hand, For still I dreamed of thee throughout the day.

But now that I am come, and side by side We go, and men cry gladly on the bride And tremble at the image of my pride, Where is thy hand to lead me down the way?

But now that thou art come, and heaven and earth Are laughing in the fulness of their mirth, A shame I knew not in my heart has birth—     —Draw me through dreams unto the end of day!

Behold, behold, how weak my heart is grown Now all the heat of its desire is known! Pearl beyond price I fear to call mine own, Where is thy hand to lead me down the way?

Behold, behold, how little I may move! Think in thy heart how terrible is Love, O thou who know'st my soul as God above—     —Draw me through dreams unto the end of day!

The stage for the play in another part of the street, and the people thronging all about.

Here, Joan, this is so good a place     'Tis worth the scramble and the race! There is the Empress just sat down, Her white hands on her golden gown, While yet the Emperor stands to hear The welcome of the bald-head Mayor Unto the show; and you shall see The player-folk come in presently. The king of whom is e'en that one, Who wandering but a while agone Stumbled upon our harvest-home That August when you might not come. Betwixt the stubble and the grass Great mirth indeed he brought to pass. But liefer were I to have seen Your nimble feet tread down the green In threesome dance to pipe and fife.

Thou art a dear thing to my life, And nought good have I far to seek—     But hearken! for the Mayor will speak.

Since your grace bids me speak without stint or sparing A thing little splendid I pray you to see:     Early is the day yet, for we near the dawning Drew on chains dear-bought, and gowns done with gold; So may ye high ones hearken an hour A tale that our hearts hold worthy and good, Of Pharamond the Freed, who, a king feared and honoured, Fled away to find love from his crown and his folk. E'en as I tell of it somewhat I tremble Lest we, fearful of treason to the love that fulfils you, Should seem to make little of the 

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