. The princess, a medley. Given back to life, to life indeed, thro thee, Indeed I love : the new day comes, the light Dearer for night, as dearer thou for faults Lived over : lift thine eyes; my doubts are dead, My haunting sense of hollow shows : the change, This truthful change in thee has killd it. Dear, Look up, and let thy nature strike on mine, 3 Like yonder morning on the blind half-world ; Approach and fear not; breathe upon my brows ; In that fine air I tremble, all the past Melts mist-like into this bright hour, and this Is morn to more, and all the rich to-come Reels, as the golden
. The princess, a medley. Given back to life, to life indeed, thro thee, Indeed I love : the new day comes, the light Dearer for night, as dearer thou for faults Lived over : lift thine eyes; my doubts are dead, My haunting sense of hollow shows : the change, This truthful change in thee has killd it. Dear, Look up, and let thy nature strike on mine, 3 Like yonder morning on the blind half-world ; Approach and fear not; breathe upon my brows ; In that fine air I tremble, all the past Melts mist-like into this bright hour, and this Is morn to more, and all the rich to-come Reels, as the golden Autumn woodland reels Athwart the smoke of burning weeds. Forgive me, I waste my heart in signs : let be. My bride, My wife, my life ! O we will walk this world, Yoked in all exercise of noble end, * 2 And so thro those dark gates across the wild That no man knows. Indeed I love thee : come, Yield thyself up : my hopes and thine are one : Accomplish thou my manhood and thyself; Lay thy sweet hands in mine and trust to 134 THE PRINCESS. CONCLUSION. So closed our tale, of which I give you all The random scheme as wildly as it rose. The words are mostly mine ; for when we ceased There came a minutes pause, and Walter said, I wish she had not yielded ! then to me, What if you drest it up poetically ! So prayd the men, the women ; I gave assent: Yet how to bind the scatterd scheme of seven Together in one sheaf? What style could suit ? The men required that I should give throughout The sort of mock-heroic gigantesque, With which we banterd little Lilia first; The women — and perhaps they felt their power, For something in the ballads which they sang, Or in their silent influence as they sat, Had ever seemd to wrestle with burlesque, And drove us, last, to quite a solemn close — They hated banter, wishd for something real, A gallant fight, a noble princess — why Not make her true-heroic — true-sublime ? Or all, they said, as earnest as the close ? Which yet with such a f
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