A brand of fire upon her heart would trace.
Darkness about her swirled, but, with a fierce
Wild, conquering shudder, shaking herself free,
Unto the light she clung, though like a sea
It surged and eddied round her; yet so still
She sat, none knew her steely eyes could pierce
The leafy screen. With guilty terror chill,
She heard the king speak--sadly riding forth:
"Whence come you, Philip, battle-stained and slow?
What burden bear you with such brows of woe?"