The very fool some said and idiot,

Or whether under cloak of dulness crass,

He veiled that sense best suited to his case,

Sparing his wit, as housewives spare their light,

For curtain eloquence and dead of night;

And spite of whispered tales obscurely spread,

Doubting the fortunes of her nuptial bed,

Here at this word all sides agreed to rest:

Griselda did her duty with the best.

Yet, poor Griselda! When in lusty youth

A love-sick boy I stood unformed, uncouth,

14

And watched with sad and ever jealous eye

The vision of your beauty passing by,

Why was it that that brow inviolate,

That virginal courage yet unscared by fate,

That look the immortal queen and huntress wore

To frightened shepherds' eyes in days of yore

Consoled me thus, and soothed unconsciously,

And stilled my jealous fears I knew not why?

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