“I in my cruse bear water, wherewithal To quench the flames of Hell; and with my fire I Paradise would burn: that hence no small Fear shall impel, and no mean hope shall hire, Men to serve God as they have served of yore; But to His will shall set their whole desire, For love, love, love alone, forevermore!” And “love, love, love,” rang round her as she passed From sight, with mystic murmurs o’er and o’er Reverbed from hollow heaven, as from some vast, Deep-coloured, vaulted, ocean-answering shell. I, Ivo, had no power to ban or bless, But was as one withholden by a spell. Forward she fared in lofty loneliness, Urged on by an imperious inward stress, To waste fair Eden, and to drown fierce Hell. THE ACCOLADE A SONG FOR THE BEGINNING I Now filled was all the sum Of serving years, and past, forever past, All duties, all delights, of young esquires: And to the altar and the hour at last,-- The hour, the altar, of his dear desires,-- Clear-shriven and whitely clad the youth was come. II Full many a squire was in that household bred To arms and honour and sweet courtesy, Who wore that sojourn’s fragrant memory As amulet in after-battles dread; And meeting in kings’ houses joyously, Or, wounded, in the sedge beside a lake, Such men were bounden brothers, for the sake Of the blade that knighted and the board that fed. III To eastward builded was the oratory: There all the warm spring night,--while in the wood The buds were swelling in the brooding dark, And dreaming of a lordlier dawn the lark,-- Paced to and fro the youth, and dreamed on glory, And watched his arms. Great knights in mailéd hood On steeds of stone sat ranged along the aisle, And frowned upon the aspirant: “Who is he Would claim the name and join the company Of slayers of Soldans swart and Dragons grim, Not ignorant of wanded wizards’ guile, And deserts parched, and waters wide to swim?” He halted at the challenge of the dead. Anon, in twilight, fancy feigned a smile To curve the carven lips, as though they said, “Oh, welcome, brother, of whom the world hath need! Ere the recorded deed We trembled, hoped, and doubted, even as thou.” And therewithal he lifted up his brow, Uplift from hesitance and humble fear, And saw how with the splendour of the sun The glimmering oriel blossomed rosy-clear; And lo, the Vigil of the Arms was done! IV