And haughty merchant-princes, who, in countless argosies, Possessed the wealth of Orient Ind, sued humbly at her feet; And monarchs put aside command and followed in her _suite_. But all in vain, for Uriel loved none, nor cared to love; She only prized her sire and home; she sought no other ties; So not a single suitor saw his image in her eyes. More beautiful with every moon became the maiden’s face, More queenly still her stately step, more luminous her eyes, Until her lovers thought her charms translations from the skies. One day, perchance attracted by the maiden’s marvelous fame, An unknown knight, in humble guise, rode slowly to her gate. No page, no man-at-arms had he; he came in simple state. His armor was as dark as night, his tossing plumes were black, As was his gaunt gigantic steed;—no arms were on his shield— Only a deadly night-shade shone upon its ebon field. Next day the tournament gave birth to doughty deeds of arms, For down before the Nameless Knight the lady’s suitors went; And, strange to say, that Uriel’s eyes now sparkled with content. Next night a mournful melody swept from the plain below, And from her oriel, bright as stars, peered Uriel’s luminous eyes: Her heart made echoes to the strain, and answered it with sighs. Hunting, or hawking, in the dance when jewels made the hall Shine like the heavens on starry evens, the tall and shadowy knight Followed her form from place to place, as darkness follows light. And Uriel’s cheek grew crimson, and Uriel’s glorious eyes Shone brighter when his step was heard in palace, or on plain, Though her other guests shrunk from him with expressions of disdain. For all her father’s titled friends—the lords who sought her hand— Hated the bold adventurer; but no one spoke a word— They only looked their anger;—they knew he wore a sword. And sadly as he came he went, and Uriel’s anxious eyes Followed him, step by step, until the distance closed their view; And when her guests came once more round, they saw them moist with dew. And Uriel’s cheek grew pallid, and Uriel’s eyes grew dim, And Uriel’s form grew slender, and her beauty, day by day, Seemed stricken like the morning moon, and sinking to decay. Her father called her to him, and he kissed her icy brow, And gave her gentle names; for he saw her mother’s eyes Looking pleadingly upon him from her daïs in the skies. A warm and rosy brightness, like the bloom upon a peach, Blossomed on Uriel’s marble cheek, and the light in Uriel’s eyes Came back at once, like light to stars, when clouds have left the skies.