"Think then, will it bring honor to thy head If folk say, 'Everything aside he cast And to all fame and honor was he dead, And to his one hope now is dead at last, 410 Since all unholpen he is gone and past: Ah, the gods love not man, for certainly, He to his helper did not cease to cry." "Nay, but thou wilt help; they who died before Not single-hearted as I deem came here, 415 Therefore unthanked they laid their gifts before Thy stainless feet, still shivering with their fear, Lest in their eyes their true thought might appear, Who sought to be the lords of that fair town, Dreaded of men and winners of renown. 420 "O Queen, thou knowest I pray not for this: O, set us down together in some place Where not a voice can break our heaven of bliss, Where naught but rocks and I can see her face, Softening beneath the marvel of thy grace, 425 Where not a foot our vanished steps can track,-- The golden age, the golden age come back! "O fairest, hear me now, who do thy will, Plead for thy rebel that she be not slain, But live and love and be thy servant still: 430 Ah, give her joy and take away my pain, And thus two long-enduring servants gain. An easy thing this is to do for me, What need of my vain words to weary thee! "But none the less this place will I not leave 435 Until I needs must go my death to meet, Or at thy hands some happy sign receive That in great joy we twain may one day greet Thy presence here and kiss thy silver feet, Such as we deem thee, fair beyond all words, 440 Victorious o'er our servants and our lords." Then from the altar back a space he drew, But from the Queen turned not his face away, But 'gainst a pillar leaned, until the blue That arched the sky, at ending of the day, 445 Was turned to ruddy gold and changing gray, And clear, but low, the nigh-ebbed windless sea In the still evening murmured ceaselessly. And there he stood when all the sun was down, Nor had he moved, when the dim golden light, 450 Like the far lustre of a godlike town, Had left the world to seeming hopeless night, Nor would he move the more when wan moonlight Streamed through the pillars for a little while, And lighted up the white Queen's changeless smile. 455 Naught noted he the shallow flowing sea As step by step it set the wrack a-swim, The yellow torchlight nothing noted he Wherein with fluttering gown and half-bared limb The temple damsels sung their midnight hymn, 460 And naught the doubled stillness of the fane When they were gone and all was hushed again.