choice of one too high her love to be,--
But cannot yield her breath till she has poured
Her strength away in this hot-bleeding word,
Telling the secret of her soul to her soul's lord."

Said Mico, "Nay, that thought is poesy,
I need but listen as it sings to me.
Come thou again to-morrow." The third day,
When linked notes had perfected the lay,
Minuccio had his summons to the court,
To make, as he was wont, the moments short
Of ceremonious dinner to the king.
This was the time when he had meant to bring
Melodious message of young Lisa's love;
He waited till the air had ceased to move
To ringing silver, till Falernian wine
Made quickened sense with quietude combine;
And then with passionate descant made each ear incline.

{Court scene: p28.jpg}

_Love_, _thou didst see me_, _light as morning's breath_,
_Roaming a garden in a joyous error_,
_Laughing at chases vain_, _a happy child_,
_Till of thy countenance the alluring terror_
_In majesty from out the blossoms smiled_,
_From out their life seeming a beauteous Death_
_O Love_, _who so didst choose me for thine own_
_Taking this little isle to thy great sway_,
_See now_, _it is the honor of thy throne_
_That what thou gavest perish not away_,
_Nor leave some sweet remembrance to atone_
_By life that will be for the brief life gone_:
_Hear_, _ere the shroud o'er these frail limbs be thrown_--
_Since every king is vassal unto thee_,
_My heart's lord needs must listen loyally_--
_O tell him I am waiting for my Death_!

_Tell him_, _for that he hath such royal power_
_'Twere hard for him to think how small a thing_,
_How slight a sign_, _would make a wealthy dower_
_For one like me_, _the bride of that pale king_
_Whose bed is mine at some swift-nearing hour_.
_Go to my lord_, _and to his memory bring_
_That happy birthday of my sorrowing_,
_When his large glance made meaner gazers glad_,
_Entering the bannered lists_: _'twas then I had_
_The wound that laid me in the arms of Death_.
_Tell him_, _O Love_, _I am a lowly maid_,
_No more than any little knot of thyme_
_That he with careless foot may often tread_;
_Yet lowest fragrance oft will mount sublime_
_And cleave to things most high and hallowed_,
_As doth the fragrance of my life's springtime_,
_My lowly love_, _that_, _soaring_, _seeks to climb_
_Within his thought_, _and make a gentle bliss_,
_More blissful than if mine_, _in being his_:
_So shall I live in him_, _and rest in Death_.

The strain