"And pray, Sanpeur," she said one eve to him,
When they were at a feast at Camelot,
"Why is your life so lone and incomplete,
When any lovely maiden of the court
Would follow you most gladly at your call?"

"You know full well, my Lady Gwendolaine."

"By your kind grace, I cannot guess," she said,
Repenting as she said it, instantly.

"Because I love you only, evermore;
You long have felt it, known it; and I thought
Cared not to hear me say it with my voice;
But, as you wish it, I have said it now,
My Lady Gwendolaine."

They stood among
The knights and ladies, therefore he spoke low,
In quiet dignity, as he might say
"How well the colour of your robe beseems
Your beauty";--not a trace of passionate
Intensity, save in his lucent eyes.
No passion nor embrace could so have moved her,
As this calm telling her in quiet words
The secret of all secrets in God's world,
As though it were a part of daily life;
This power to hold a passion in his hand,--
Which his true eyes declared was measureless,--