Sleep then, O Pharamond, till her kiss shall awake thee, For, lo, here comes the sun o'er the tops of the mountains, And she with his light in her hair comes before him, As solemn and fair as the dawn of the May-tide On some isle of mid-ocean when all winds are sleeping. O worthy is she of this hour that awaits her, And the death of all doubt, and beginning of gladness Her great heart shall embrace without fear or amazement. --He sleeps, yet his heart's beating measures her footfalls; And her heart beateth too, as her feet bear her onward: Breathe gently between them, O breeze of the morning! Wind round them unthought of, sweet scent of the blossoms! Treasure up every minute of this tide of their meeting, O flower-bedecked Earth! with such tales of my triumph Is your life still renewed, and spring comes back for ever From that forge of all glory that brought forth my blessing. O welcome, Love's darling: Shall this day ever darken, Whose dawn I have dight for thy longing triumphant? [_Exit LOVE. Enter AZALAIS._ AZALAIS A song in my mouth, then? my heart full of gladness? My feet firm on the earth, as when youth was beginning? And the rest of my early days come back to bless me?-- Who hath brought me these gifts in the midst of the May-tide? What!--three days agone to the city I wandered, And watched the ships warped to the Quay of the Merchants; And wondered why folk should be busy and anxious; For bitter my heart was, and life seemed a-waning, With no story told, with sweet longing turned torment, Love turned to abasement, and rest gone for ever. And last night I awoke with a pain piercing through me, And a cry in my ears, and Death passed on before, As one pointing the way, and I rose up sore trembling, And by cloud and by night went before the sun's coming, As one goeth to death,--and lo here the dawning! And a dawning therewith of a dear joy I know not. I have given back the day the glad greeting it gave me; And the gladness it gave me, that too would I give Were hands held out to crave it----Fair valley, I greet thee, And the new-wakened voices of all things familiar. --Behold, how the mist-bow lies bright on the mountain, Bidding hope as of old since no prison endureth. Full busy has May been these days I have missed her, And the milkwort is blooming, and blue falls the speedwell. --Lo, here have been footsteps in the first of the morning, Since the moon sank all red in the mist now departed. --Ah! what lieth there by the side of the highway? Is it death stains the sunlight, or sorrow or sickness? [_Going up to PHARAMOND_.