THE WELL-BELOVED

I wayed by star and planet shine 

         Towards the dear one's home 

At Kingsbere, there to make her mine 

         When the next sun upclomb. 

I edged the ancient hill and wood 

         Beside the Ikling Way, 

Nigh where the Pagan temple stood 

         In the world's earlier day. 

And as I quick and quicker walked 

         On gravel and on green, 

I sang to sky, and tree, or talked 

         Of her I called my queen. 

 "O faultless is her dainty form, 

         And luminous her mind; 

She is the God-created norm 

         Of perfect womankind!" 

A shape whereon one star-blink gleamed 

         Glode softly by my side, 

A woman's; and her motion seemed 

         The motion of my bride. 

And yet methought she'd drawn erstwhile 

         Adown the ancient leaze, 

Where once were pile and peristyle 

         For men's idolatries. 

- "O maiden lithe and lone, what may 

         Thy name and lineage be, 

Who so resemblest by this ray 

         My darling? - Art thou she?" 

The Shape: "Thy bride remains within 

         Her father's grange and grove." 

- "Thou speakest rightly," I broke in, 

         "Thou art not she I love." 

- "Nay, though thy bride remains inside 

         Her father's walls," said she, 

"The one most dear is with thee here, 

         For thou dost love but me." 

Then I: "But she, my only choice, 

         Is now at Kingsbere Grove?" 

Again her soft mysterious voice - 

         "I am thy only Love." 

Thus still she vouched, and still I said, 

         "O sprite, that cannot be." 

It was as if my bosom bled, 

         So much she troubled me. 

The sprite resumed: "Thou hast transferred 

         To her dull form awhile 

My beauty, fame, and deed, and word, 

         My gestures and my smile. 

"O fatuous man, this truth infer, 

         Brides are not what they seem; 

Thou lovest what thou dream'st her; 

         I am thy very dream!" 

- "O then," I answered miserably, 

         Speaking as scarce I knew, 

"My loved one, I must wed with thee 

         If what thou say'st be true!" 

She, proudly, thinning in the gloom - 

         "Though, since troth-plight began, 

I've ever stood as bride to groom, 

         I wed no mortal man." 

Thereat she vanished by the Cross 

         That, entering Kingsbere Town, 

The two long lanes form, near the fosse 

         Below the faneless Down. 

When I arrived and met my bride, 

         Her look was pinched and thin, 

As if her soul had shrunk and died, 

         And left a waste within. 

-o0o-