Then, while less confident our pace would grow,
Wiser than I—a twelvemonth and a day,
Would René counsel: Might it not be so—
As we had heard our own dear mother say—
The roads are four—the Kings had come another way?
No time to lose. We took the homeward track,
The Kings at vespers might be lingering still.
Soon were we in the church. Alack, alack!
The Kings had passed; for though they bore good will
To our good parish, yet must they fulfil