When my dear child is set forth at her best, That neither court nor country, tho' they sought Thro' all the provinces like those of old That lighted on Queen Esther, has her match." Here ceased the kindly mother out of breath; And Enid listen'd brightening as she lay; Then, as the white and glittering star of morn Parts from a bank of snow, and by and by Slips into golden cloud, the maiden rose, And left her maiden couch, and robed herself, Help'd by the mother's careful hand and eye, Without a mirror, in the gorgeous gown; Who, after, turn'd her daughter round, and said, She never yet had seen her half so fair. * * * "And I can scarcely ride with you to court, For old am I, and rough the ways and wild; But Yniol goes, and I full oft shall dream I see my princess as I see her now, Clothed with my gift, and gay among the gay.'" But while the women thus rejoiced, Geraint Woke where he slept in the high hall, and call'd For Enid, and when Yniol made report Of that good mother making Enid gay In such apparel as might well beseem His princess, or indeed the stately Queen, He answer'd: "Earl, entreat her by my love, Albeit I give no reason but my wish, That she ride with me in her faded silk." Yniol with that hard message went; it fell Like flaws in summer laying lusty corn: For Enid, all abash'd she knew not why, Dared not to glance at her good mother's face, But silently, in all obedience, Her mother silent too, nor helping her, Laid from her limbs the costly-broider'd gift, And robed them in her ancient suit again, And so descended. Never man rejoiced More than Geraint to greet her thus attired; And glancing all at once as keenly at her As careful robins eye the delver's toil, Made her cheek burn and either eyelid fall, But rested with her sweet face satisfied; Then seeing cloud upon the mother's brow, Her by both hands he caught, and sweetly said,