Nor tournament before his vision now,--
Swift in his boyish heart, so full of dreams
Of fame, there springs a new, intense resolve
Of consecration, an unconscious prayer
For God's peace, though he knows not what it means.

The Lady Agathar stands, robed in black,
Behind the buoyant boy she loves so well.
She still has youth, and beauty, and desire;
But each full throb of her true, wifely heart
Beats for her lord, though he be gone,--all else
In life is naught to her but Christalan,
And Greane, the winsome maiden by her side.

Sweet Greane's heart thrills with pride of Christalan,
And with the spirit of the solemn scene;
But, also, with a fierce rebellious pang,
That she is but a useless, silly girl.
She wishes she too had been born a lad,
To take the knightly vow, and leave the home,
And go forth to the world and its delight.

Now Christalan turns from the altar-rail
To see the love upon his mother's face.
Back to the castle, in a goodly train,
They take their way, in joyous merriment
And festal cheer.

A banquet for the lad
Is given in the hall, where gather soon