Upstarted as at midnight, crying out,
"She shall not wed him--rest you, wife, in peace!'
They found him, Alfred, haggard-ey'd and faint,
But holding Katie ever towards the sun,
Unhurt, and waking in the fervent heat.
And now it came that Alfred being sick
Of his sharp hurts and tended by them both,
With what was like to love, being born of thanks,
Had choice of hours most politic to woo,
And used his deed as one might use the sun,
To ripen unmellow'd fruit; and from the core
Of Katie's gratitude hop'd yet to nurse
A flow'r all to his liking--Katie's love.
But Katie's mind was like the plain, broad shield
Of a table di'mond, nor had a score of sides;
And in its shield, so precious and so plain,
Was cut, thro' all its clear depths--Max's name!
And so she said him "Nay" at last, in words
Of such true sounding silver, that he knew
He might not win her at the present hour,
But smil'd and thought--"I go, and come again!
"Then shall we see. Our three-score years and ten
"Are mines of treasure, if we hew them deep,
"Nor stop too long in choosing out our tools!"

* * * * *


PART IV.