THE TWENTY-FIFTH DAY 
 
“ I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.” 
Richard II. 
 
Alice was desperately ill at morn. 
Hour by sweet hour I watched her sorrowing, 
While the strong fever fought unconquering 
With native coolness of her life, o’er-worn 
Or poisoned ; thus I fought the long forlorn 
Battle all day, until the evening 
Brought back sweet health on sleep and noiseless wing : 
Strong love of the long battle was reborn. 
 
The child slept elsewhere that she might sleep well. 
Therefore, not fearing anything, I came ; 
Lit my love’s candle at her body’s flame, 
And fought not with the fevers now that swell 
Our burning lips and bosoms, until shame 
Nearly surrendered the sweet citadel. 
 
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