Lift a goblet to the dreaming
Shadow of the fleeing king.”
Weikhardt, who would not yield to Imhof in a knowledge or love of the poet Stefan George, continued the quotation in a caressing voice:
“With a smile serene he watches,
Yet flits on with shyer seeming,
For beneath him fades the height,
And he fears all mortal touches,
And he almost dreads the light.”
They entered the studio. Weikhardt lit the lamp, and let its glow fall upon a picture that was not quite completed. It was a Descent from the Cross.