Ah, they were brothers then,
And often rode together, doubtless where
The swords were thickest, and were loyal men,
Until they fell in these same evil dreams.
Rapunzel.
Yea, love; but shall we not depart from hence?
The white moon groweth golden fast, and gleams
Between the aspens stems; I fear, and yet a sense
Of fluttering victory comes over me,
That will not let me fear aright; my heart,
Feel how it beats, love, strives to get to thee;
I breathe so fast that my lips needs must part;
Your breath swims round my mouth, but let us go.
The Prince.
I, Sebald, also, pluck from off the staff
The crimson banner; let it lie below,
Above it in the wind let grasses laugh.
Now let us go, love, down the winding stair,
With fingers intertwined: ay, feel my sword!
I wrought it long ago, with golden hair
Flowing about the hilts, because a word,
Sung by a minstrel old, had set me dreaming
Of a sweet bow'd down face with yellow hair;
Betwixt green leaves I used to see it gleaming,
A half smile on the lips, though lines of care