Who comes to meet me of her loving grace!”
And his blood mounted; but he knew how fair
The royal locks, and, when she neared his place,
He saw the lady’s prodigal dark hair
And wondrous loveliness were wide apart
From the sweet, tranquil picture next his heart.
And when the chamberlain, with halted suit,
Made reverence, and was answered courteous-wise,
The lady to her knightly guest’s salute
Turned her face full, so that he marked her eyes,—