Denying entrance, as his orders were;
He would be left alone and undisturbed
With memory and thought of Gwendolaine.
"What sweetness infinite beneath the ebb
And flow of moods," he said, half audibly;
"What truth beneath her laughter and her mirth!
I ask but that her nature be fulfilled,
That is enough for me; it matters not
If I may only see her from afar.
My love was sent to vivify her life,
Not to imperil, and to make no claim
Of her but her unfolding; to remind
Her soul of its immortal heritage,
And teach her joy,--she knew but merriment.
And this, meseems, it hath done, Christ be praised.
Her soul asserts itself through her gay life,
And joy pervades her,--she is radiant.
How wonderful she looked, last night, at Camelot!
She moved in glowing beauty like a star."

And with the vision of her in his heart,
In all the splendour of her state and pride,
In golden-threaded samite strewn with pearls,
He turned, in the quick pacing of his walk,
And faced her in her simple russet gown,
Her hair unbound, and blowing in the wind,
Her cheeks as colourless as white May flowers,
Save on the one a deep and crimson stain.
"My God!" he cried, and caught her as she fell.