THE ROMANZA.

In a kingdom of mist and moonlight,

Or ever the world was known,

Past leagues of unsailed water,

There reigned a king with a daughter

That shone like a starry stone.

The day grew out o’ the moonlight;

But never a day was there.

The king was wise as hoary,

And his daughter, like the glory

Of seven kingdoms, fair.

And the night dimmed over the moonlight,—

And ever the mist was gray,—

With slips of dull stars, bluer

Where the princess met her wooer,

A page like the month o’ May.

In her eyes the mist, and the moonlight

In hair of a crumpled gold;

By day they wooed a-hawking,

A-hawking laughed, a-mocking

The good, white king and old.

On the sea the mist, and the moonlight

Poured pale to the lilies’ tips;—

At eve, when the hawks were feeding,

In courts to the kennels leading,

He kissed her mouth and lips.

On towers the mist, and the moonlight

On a dead face staring up;—

His kingly couch was ready,

But and her hand was steady

Giving the poisoned cup.