All folk were gone out from before him, maid and man were gone:
Fast shut was the door of the bridal bower; they twain were alone.
He looked that in arms fond-clasping he should fold her loveliness—
Ah, not but through weary waiting he won her and bitter stress!
Vestured in fair white linen to the couch that Lady passed;
And the noble knight to his heart cried—“Now all is mine at last,
Even all that mine heart hath longed for my life through unto this hour!”
Well might she to him be delightsome for her beauty’s priceless dower.
Then the hand of the King in a darkling nook set the lamp aside;
And he turned him, the valiant warrior, to the bed of the maiden bride,