Come, drink to one who walks the Earth, my wife Elizabeth;
And I will pledge her beauty with this water in her cup.”
So stooping down he caught and swung her golden goblet up,
And tasted—paused—tasted again, for lo, it was rare wine!
More strangely sweet than any juice pressed from an earthly vine.
“Ho, varlet, from what pipe this wine and from what cellar shelf?”
“From good Saint Kilian’s well, sire, and I drew it up myself!”
She flushed; the table stared; the duke looked foolishly about,
The hall so still they heard far bells breaking the night without.
Then up spake Helias the Seer: “I saw the water poured—