Thus spake the ruler of the deep-mouthed kine: They were not his; the man and they alike A neighbour's wealth. He was contented thus: Humble he was in station, meek of soul, Unlettered, yet heart-wise. His face was pale; Stately his frame, though slightly bent by age: Slow were his eyes, and slow his speech, and slow His musing step; and slow his hand to wrath; A massive hand, but soft, that many a time Had succoured man and woman, child and beast, And yet could fiercely grasp the sword. At times As mightily it clutched his ashen goad When like an eagle on him swooped some thought: Then stood he as in dream, his pallid front Brightening like eastern sea-cliffs when a moon Unrisen is near its rising. Round the bay Meantime, as twilight deepened, many a fire Up-sprang, and horns were heard. Around the steep With bannered pomp and many a tossing plume Advancing slow a cavalcade made way. Oswy, Northumbria's king, the foremost rode, Oswy triumphant o'er the Mercian host, Invoking favour on his sceptre new; With him an Anglian prince, student long time In Bangor of the Irish, and a monk Of Frankish race far wandering from the Marne: They came to look on Hilda, hear her words Of far-famed wisdom on the Interior Life; For Hilda thus discoursed: 'True life of man Is life within: inward immeasurably The being winds of all who walk the earth; But he whom sense hath blinded nothing knows Of that wide greatness: like a boy is he, A boy that clambers round some castle's wall In search of nests, the outward wall of seven, Yet nothing knows of those great courts within, The hall where princes banquet, or the bower Where royal maids discourse with lyre and lute, Much less its central church, and sacred shrine Wherein God dwells alone.' Thus Hilda spake; And they that gazed upon her widening eyes Low whispered, each to each, 'She speaks of things Which she hath seen and known.' On Whitby's height The royal feast was holden: far below, A noisier revel dinned the shore; therein The humbler guests made banquet. Many a tent Gleamed on the yellow sands by ripples kissed; And many a savoury dish sent up its steam; The farmer from the field had brought his calf; Fishers that increase scaled which green-gulfed seas From womb crystalline, teeming, yield to man; And Jock, the woodsman, from his oaken glades The tall stag, arrow-pierced. In gay attire Now green, now crimson, matron sat and maid: Each had her due: the elder, reverence most, The lovelier that and love. Beside the board The beggar lacked not place. When hunger's rage, Sharpened by fresh sea-air, was quelled, the jest Succeeded, and the tale of foreign lands;