THE THIRTIETH DAY 
 
“ For god’s sake, lords, convey my tristful Queen, 
For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.” 
King Henry IV. 
 
Bitter reproaches passed between us twain, 
Hers real, mine with sneering logic sewn 
Proving my trespass hardly half her own, 
Its cause ; I proved her how she made me fain 
And left me mad, and led through joy and pain 
To that unthinkable thing :  I might atone 
No whit in this way :  then that stubborn stone 
My heart grew tears :  we were good friends again. 
 
Therefore at night I added nothing new : 
Only a little while I lay with her 
And with mere kisses sucked her soul away, 
And made my banquet of immortal dew, 
Demanding nothing but to minister 
To her desire until the dawn grew grey. 
 
69