And found him in his golden chamber laid;
And with him sweet Euphrosynè, attent
Upon his murmur’d wants, aye as he bade
Shifted the pillows with each fretful whim;
But scornfully his mother look’d at him,
And reckless of his pain gan thus upbraid:
19
‘O worthy deeds, I say, and true to blood,
The crown and pledge of promise! thou that wast
In estimation my perpetual bud,