Serving his fairest lady while their laughter Fell on the air like music. Taka, waiting On the green bank his coming, told her heart: "Not for his beauty only, tho' his eyes Burn into mine more beautiful than the night, Not for the corded muscle in his arm Which broke a great branch that would stay my path, 30 Not for his voice, a murmur of soft seas, Nor all the gracious ways he knows so well, Not for his love that breaks within his eyes,— All these are dear, are dearer than my life, But for himself I love him," Taka dreamed. "To be his sister, nay, his mother then, To welcome him from hunting with my eyes, To fight his battles with the other women, To triumph in his triumphs, yet perchance Be happier if when vanquished he would come Safe in my arms for shelter. If I might But suffer for his sake and see him stand