But he felt no hunger, and unheeded Left the wine, and eager for the rest Which his limbs, forspent with travel, needed, On the couch he laid him, still undress'd. There he sleeps--when lo! Onwards gliding slow, At the door appears a wondrous guest. V. By the waning lamp's uncertain gleaming There he sees a youthful maiden stand, Robed in white, of still and gentle seeming, On her brow a black and golden band. When she meets his eyes, With a quick surprise Starting, she uplifts a pallid hand. VI. "Is a stranger here, and nothing told me? Am I then forgotten even in name? Ah! 'tis thus within my cell they hold me, And I now am cover'd o'er with shame! Pillow still thy head There upon thy bed, I will leave thee quickly as I came." VII. "Maiden--darling! Stay, O stay!" and, leaping From the couch, before her stands the boy: "Ceres--Bacchus, here their gifts are heaping, And thou bringest Amor's gentle joy! Why with terror pale? Sweet one, let us hail These bright gods--their festive gifts employ." VIII. "Oh, no--no! Young stranger, come not nigh me; Joy is not for me, nor festive cheer. Ah! such bliss may ne'er be tasted by me, Since my mother, in fantastic fear, By long sickness bow'd, To heaven's service vow'd Me, and all the hopes that warm'd me here. IX. "They have left our hearth, and left it lonely-- The old gods, that bright and jocund train. One, unseen, in heaven, is worshipp'd only, And upon the cross a Saviour slain; Sacrifice is here, Not of lamb nor steer, But of human woe and human pain." X. And he asks, and all her words cloth ponder-- "Can it be, that, in this silent spot, I behold thee, thou surpassing wonder! My sweet bride, so strangely to me brought? Be mine only now-- See, our parents' vow Heaven's good blessing hath for us besought." XI. "No! thou gentle heart," she cried in anguish; "'Tis not mine, but 'tis my sister's place; When in lonely cell I weep and languish, Think, oh think of me in her embrace! I think but of thee-- Pining drearily, Soon beneath the earth to hide my face!" XII. "Nay! I swear by yonder flame which burneth, Fann'd by Hymen, lost thou shalt not be; Droop not thus, for my sweet bride returneth To my father's mansion back with me! Dearest! tarry here! Taste the bridal cheer, For our spousal spread so wondrously!" XIII. Then with word and sign their troth they plighted. Golden was the chain she bade him wear; But the cup he offer'd her she slighted, Silver, wrought with cunning past compare. "That is not for me; All I ask of thee Is one little ringlet of thy hair." XIV.