One lance of living fire is hurled across;
Then comes the whirlwind, and the forests toss!
Yet as she bent her beauteous shoulders down,
And heard the kindly greeting of the Queen,
He spoke such words as one who wears a crown
Speaks, and no more; and with a low, proud mien
She murmured answer, from the presence past
Lightly, nor any look behind her cast.
In that first glimpse each read the other’s heart;
But not without a summoning of himself