VIII.

Then the queen saith,‘ Woman's wit

No man asketh aid of it,

Not wild hyssop on a wall

Is of less account; or small

Glossy gnats that flit i’ the sun

Less worth weighing — light so light!

Yet when all's said — ay, all done,

Love, I love thee! By love's might

I will counsel thee aright,

Or would share the weird to-night.’

Then he answer'd‘ Have thy way.

Know‘ t is two years gone and a day

Since I, walking lone and late,

Pondered sore mine ill estate;

Open murmurers, foes concealed,

Famines dire i’ the marches round,

Neighbour kings unfriendly found,

Ay, and treacherous plots revealed

Where I trusted. I bid stay

All my knights at the high crossway,

And did down the forest fare

To bethink me, and despair.

‘ Ah! thou gilded toy a throne,

If one mounts to thee alone,

Quoth I, mourning while I went,

Haply he may drop content

As a lark wing-weary down

To the level, and his crown

Leave for another man to don;

Throne, thy gold steps raised upon.

But for me — O as for me

What is named I would not dree,

Earn, or conquer, or forego

For the barring of overthrow.’