The curtained doorway and her empty place,
Kept eager, anxious vigil for Christine.
But when, at last, the lingering meal nigh o'er,
The waking harp-notes trembled through the hush,
Like the light, fitful prelude of the thrush
Ere his full song enchant the domèd elm;
The arras parting, through the open door
She came. Before her borne, the golden helm
Within the dim-lit hall shone out so bright,
That lord and dame in rustling wonder rose,