The Star and the Garter

XXXII Tue note of the silence is changed; the quarrel is over That rather endeared than estranged: lover to lover Flows in the infinite river of knowledge and peace: Not a ripple or eddy or quiver: the monitors cease That were eager to warn, to awaken: a sleep is opposed, And the leaves of the rose wind-shaken are curled and closed ; Gone down in the glare of the sun; and the twilight perfumes Steal soft in the wake of the One that abides in the glooms. Walking he is, and slowly; thoughtful he seems, Pure and happy and holy; as one would who dreams In the day-time of deep delights no kin to the day, But a flower new-born of the night’s in Hecate’s way. Love is his name, and he bears the ill quiver no more. He has aged as we all, and despairs; but the lady who bore Him, Eros, to ruin the ages, has softened at heart; He is tamed by the art of the sages, the magical art. No longer he burns and blisters, consumes and corrodes; He hath Muses nine for sisters; the holy abodes Of the maiden are open to him, for his wrath is grown still ; His eyes with weeping are dim; he hath changed his will. 75