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"It shall be as thou wishest," said the dame:

"All cates and dainties shall be storèd there

Quickly on this feast-night: by the tambour frame

Her own lute thou wilt see: no time to spare, 175

For I am slow and feeble, and scarce dare

On such a catering trust my dizzy head. Wait here, my child, with patience; kneel in prayer

The while. Ah! thou must needs the lady wed,

Or may I never leave my grave among the dead."

180

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And diamonded with panes of quaint device,

Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damasked wings;

And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries,

And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings,

215 A shielded scutcheon blushed with blood of queens and kings.

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In sort of wakeful swoon, perplexed she lay,

Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppressed

Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away;

Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day;

Blissfully havened both from joy and pain;

240

Clasped like a missal where swart1
Paynims pray;

Blinded alike from sunshine and from
rain,

As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.

Stol'n to this paradise, and so entranced,

Porphyro gazed upon her empty dress, And listened to her breathing, if it chanced

246 To wake into a slumberous tenderness; Which when he heard, that minute did he bless,

And breathed himself: then from the closet crept,

Noiseless as fear in a wide wilderness, 250 And over the hushed carpet, silent, stepped,

And 'tween the curtains peeped, where, lo!-how fast she slept.

Then by the bedside, where the faded

moon

Made a dim, silver twilight, soft he set

1 black.

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From such a steadfast spell his lady's For if thou diest, my Love, I know not

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where to go."

315

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