He bowed his thanks, and lightly touched the harp again. His fingers strayed uncertainly among the strings, like one busy with memory; a moment more, and he seemed to catch the melody, and, resting his burning glance upon Ginevra’s fair face, he sang:
PRINCE EDWARD’S SONG.
“In blinding snow, as wild winds blow,
I left the forest’s gloom,
And, following sounds that change the night
To brightness and to bloom,
“I’ve found where all sweet flowers live,
Where summer sings and never dies,
Its roses, Lady, on thy cheek,
Its violets in thine eyes.