At length he spake: "For evil or for good,
I take the Helm of Strife; let come what may."
IV.
Dawn shivered coldly through the meadowlands;
The ever-trembling aspens by the stream
Quivered with chilly light and fitful gleam;
Ruffling the heavy foliage of the plane,
Until the leaves turned, like pale, lifted hands,
A cold gust stirred with presage of near rain.
Coldly the light on Geoffrey's hauberk fell;