ritain lie
Neath the ever-changing sky,

Lived a British maiden free--
Princess, priestess, both was she,
When a Roman with his art
Wooed and stole this maiden's heart.

Fled she with him o'er the seas,
Past the sea-girt Cyclades,
On to Sidon's murmuring shore,
But she smiled not evermore.

For the Roman went his way,
And was often heard to say
How he left beyond the seas
The bride of the Saronides.

Grew she sadder day by day,
Till the Reaper came that way;
Then she raised her eyes and smiled,
Died, and left behind a child.'

As the last notes died away, the singer saw a great change come over the
face of the Greek.

His head rested on his right hand, and with the other he convulsively
clutched a little silver shrine which hung from his neck. He was as pale
as death; he moved not, spoke not, until the minstrel said:

'What ails thee, noble lord?'

Chios braced himself together, and replied:

'I was deeply touched with thy tender tale. My soul flew out to Sidon.
Tell me, is this story true?'

'Yes, 'tis true. I knew the priestess princess, but the Roman I never
saw.'

'What was she like?'

'Beautiful--rarely beautiful! She moved among the Druid bards the queen,
like a queen of night--tall, commanding, with great dark eyes like dusky
diamonds; deep, piercing were those eyes, set beneath eyebrows fit for
Juno. Every lineament of her face spoke forth a soul of souls. When she
walked, her robe of white fell like a summer cloud, and her dark, waving
hair in masses of beauty moved over her shoulders down to her feet.
Everyone knew her, feared her--everyone loved her. In an evil hour she
fell, was punished, and died far, far away from her island home.'

'What was her name?'

'Saronia.'

'Great God! Saronia?'

'Yea, my lord. Thou art agitated?'

'No, no, no! Go on!'

'Nothing much remains to be told. This only: They mourned her fall, her
loss, her death. The prophets in that land have cast a destiny of her
child, and say she shall shine forth as the moon, terrible as the sun;
that she shall tread with dignity the floorway of a great temple, and
shall minister at its altar; that she shall rise to the greatest
eminence, and----'

'Stay! Say no more, man--say no more! Leave her there!'

And a great pain passed over the face of Chios, and he pressed his head
between his hands as if to hide from his gaze some hideous vision. Then,