His song shot through my fluttering heart like flame
Till, wondering, I heard him breathe your name.
Oh, then I knew how all the deathless wrong
Time wrought of old is but a harper's song;
And all the hopeless sorrow of long years
An idle tale to win a stranger's tears.
Yea, in the song of Love's immortal dead
Our love was told; with shuddering heart I fled,
And strove to pass upon my way unseen,
But song was hushed with whispers: "Lo, the Queen!"