Tale of Archais

14 THE TALE OF ARCHAIS Her perfect eyelids drooped, her warm cheek paled, A tear stole over it. His lips repent With vain weak words—O iron firmament! How vain, how cold are words !—his lips repeat Their faint sweet savour, but her rosy feet Held in his hands and touched with reverent lips Revived her soul more perfectly. Soon slips Her gentle answer ; now her timid eyes So tender with the lifted lashes rise To meet his gaze. He spoke : “ Have pity on me Who wronged thee for my perfect love of thee, My perfect love, O love ! for strange and dread Delights consume me ; I am as one dead Beating at Heaven’s gate with nerveless wing, Wailing because the song the immortals sing Is so fast barred behind the iron sky. Speak but thine anger quickly ; let me die ! ” “ But I forgive thee, thou art good and kind. ” “ O love ! O love ! O mistress of my mind, You love me ! ” “ Nay, I was a while afraid, Being so white and tender ; for a maid I lived alone with flower and brook, nor guessed Another dwelt within the quiet nest