XIV

As thus she mused, a shadow seemed to rise
  From out her thought, and turn to dreariness
All blissful hopes and sunny memories,
  And the quick blood would curdle up and press
About her heart, which seemed to shut its eyes
  And hush itself, as who with shuddering guess 390
Harks through the gloom and dreads e’en now to feel
Through his hot breast the icy slide of steel.

XV

But, at that heart-beat, while in dread she was,
  In the low wind the honeysuckles gleam,
A dewy thrill flits through the heavy grass,
  And, looking forth, she saw, as in a dream,
Within the wood the moonlight’s shadowy mass: 
  Night’s starry heart yearning to hers doth seem,
And the deep sky, full-hearted with the moon,
Folds round her all the happiness of June. 400

XVI

What fear could face a heaven and earth like this? 
  What silveriest cloud could hang ’neath such a sky? 
A tide of wondrous and unwonted bliss
  Rolls back through all her pulses suddenly,
As if some seraph, who had learned to kiss
  From the fair daughters of the world gone by,
Had wedded so his fallen light with hers,
Such sweet, strange joy through soul and body stirs.

XVII

Now seek we Mordred; he who did not fear
  The crime, yet fears the latent consequence:  410
If it should reach a brother Templar’s ear,
  It haply might be made a good pretence
To cheat him of the hope he held most dear;
  For he had spared no thought’s or deed’s expense,
That by and by might help his wish to clip
Its darling bride,—­the high grandmastership.

XVIII

The apathy, ere a crime resolved is done,
  Is scarce less dreadful than remorse for crime;
By no allurement can the soul be won
  From brooding o’er the weary creep of time:  420
Mordred stole forth into the happy sun,
  Striving to hum a scrap of Breton rhyme,
But the sky struck him speechless, and he tried
In vain to summon up his callous pride.

XIX

In the courtyard a fountain leaped alway,
  A Triton blowing jewels through his shell
Into the sunshine; Mordred turned away,
  Weary because the stone face did not tell
Of weariness, nor could he bear to-day,
  Heartsick, to hear the patient sink and swell 430
Of winds among the leaves, or golden bees
Drowsily humming in the orange-trees.

XX

All happy sights and sounds now came to him
  Like a reproach:  he wandered far and wide,
Following the lead of his unquiet whim,
  But still there went a something at his side
That made the cool breeze hot, the sunshine dim;
  It would not flee, it could not be defied,
He could not see it, but he felt it there,
By the damp chill that crept among his hair. 440