It had been dearly kept, it smelt of lavender.
Something remained: a paper, crossed with blue,
Where he should read; he stood there in the sun,
Reading of Mary's wedding till he knew
What he had cast away, what he had done.
He was rejected, Lion was the one.
Lion, the godly and the upright, he.
The black lines in the paper showed how it could be.
He pocketed the love gift and took horse,
And rode out to the pay-shed for his savings.