When he hath climbed my knees to lick my hand.
I never saw it in the mirrored peace
That brims the beauty of a forest pool;—
Nor in the wise regard of mighty nature.
But in the face of man I oft have seen it.
Merlin. What hast thou seen, this wisdom would I know?
Mordred. I never saw it in thy look, O Mage,
But something sweeter, much akin, called pity,
But once I woke a flower-eyed little maid,