Ah, why?—one’s own life may be bravely led,
But not another’s. Yet, as to and fro
The buzzing private embassies were sped,
And when the Queen’s own pages, bowing low,
Told in his ear a sweet and secret story,
The Prince, long trained to seek his house’s glory,
Let every gracious sentence seem a plume
Of love and beckoning beauty for his helm.
So passed a season; then the cannon’s boom
And belfry’s peal delivered to the realm