That fairest fair one of the far-off land?”

Her eyes grew large; in wonder half, half ruth

She spake, like one who sorrowed, yet forgave

Our land a land of beauty is, O youth!

Her maids are fair and good; her sons are brave.”

“O maiden! by those eyes, and quivering lids,

Forgive! From thee Love hides not his sweet lore:

Breathe it to none—not even thy lambs and kids—”

Then whispered I thy name, but told no more.

II.