How should earth Worship her children? Nought it is in me, My lord’s dear love it is, that makes me seem Fair.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

How thou liest thou knowest not. Rosamund, What hast thou done to be so beautiful?

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

The sun has left thine eyes half blind.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

I dare not Kiss thee, or stare straight-eyed against the sun.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

Kiss me. Who knows how long the lord of life May spare us time for kissing? Life and love Are less than change and death.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

What ghosts are they? So sweet thou never wast to me before. The woman that is God—the God that is Woman—the sovereign of the soul of man, Our fathers’ Freia, Venus crowned in Rome, Has lent my love her girdle; but her lips Have robbed the red rose of its heart, and left No glory for the flower beyond all flowers To bid the spring be glad of.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

Summer and spring May cleanse and heal the heart of man no more Than winter may, or withering autumn. Sire, Husband and lord, I have a woful word To speak against a man beloved of thee, A man 

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