Nipped by the first frost.

_Sebald._ You would always laugh
At my wet boots: I had to stride through grass
Over my ankles.

_Ottima._ Then our crowning night!

_Sebald._ The July night?

_Ottima._ The day of it too, Sebald!
When heaven's pillars seemed o'erbowed with heat, 185
Its black-blue canopy suffered descend
Close on us both, to weigh down each to each,
And smother up all life except our life.
So lay we till the storm came.

_Sebald._ How it came!

_Ottima._ Buried in woods we lay, you recollect; 190
Swift ran the searching tempest overhead;
And ever and anon some bright white shaft
Burned through the pine-tree roof, here burned and there,
As if God's messenger through the close wood screen
Plunged and replunged his weapon at a venture, 195
Feeling for guilty thee and me; then broke
The thunder like a whole sea overhead--

* * * * *

_Sebald._ Slower, Ottima!
Do not lean on me!

_Ottima._ Sebald, as we lay,
Who said, "Let death come now! 'Tis right to die!
Right to be punished! Naught completes such bliss 200
But woe!" Who said that?

_Sebald._ How did we ever rise?
Was't that we slept? Why did it end?

_Ottima._ I felt you
Taper into a point the ruffled ends
Of my loose locks 'twixt both your humid lips.
My hair is fallen now: knot it again! 205

_Sebald._ I kiss you now, dear Ottima, now and now!
This way? Will you forgive me--be once more
My great queen?

_Ottima._ Bind it thrice about my brow;
Crown me your queen, your spirit's arbitress,
Magnificent in sin. Say that!

_Sebald._ I crown you 210
My great white queen, my spirit's arbitress,
Magnificent--

[_From without is heard the voice of_ PIPPA _singing_--

_The year's at the spring_
_And day's at the morn;_
_Morning's at seven;_ 215
_The hillside's dew-pearled;_
_The lark's on the wing;_
_The snail's on the thorn:_
_God's in his heaven--_
_All's right with the w