“Unless I so reward her for her choice, And shape my future conduct in this land By her deserving, that the world’s great voice Proclaim me not unworthy! Let my hand Henceforward make her tasks its own; my life Be merged in this fair ruler, precious wife, “The paragon and glory of her kind!” Who reads his own heart will not think it strange He put that yester romance from his mind So readily. Men’s lives, like oceans, change In shifting tides, and ebb from either shore Till the strong planet draws them on once more. * * * * * And as a pilgrim, shielded by the wings Of some bright angel, crosses perilous ground, Through unknown ways, and, while she leads and sings, Forgets the past, nor sees what pits surround His footsteps, so the young Prince cast away That self-distrust, and with his sovereign May The gladness joined, and with her sat in state, Beneath the ancient scutcheons of her throne, And welcome gave, and led the revels late; But when the still and midnight heavens shone They fled the masquers, and the city’s hum Was silent, and the palace halls grew dumb, And Love and Sleep in that serene eclipse Moved, making prince and clown of one degree, Then was she all his own; then from her lips He learned with what a sweet humility She, whose least word a spacious kingdom ruled, In Love’s free vassalage would fain be schooled. How poor, she said, her sovereignty seemed, Unless it made her richer in his eye! And poor his life, until her sunlight beamed Upon it, said the Prince. So months went by; They were a gracious pair; the Queen was glad; Peace smiled, and the wide land contentment had. And for a time the courteous welcome paid The chosen consort, and the people’s joy In the Queen’s joy, kept silent those who weighed The Prince’s make, and sought to find alloy In his fine gold; but, when the freshness fled From these things told, some took new thought and said: “Look at the Queen: her heart is wholly set Upon the Prince! what if he warp her mind To errant policies, and rule us yet By proxy?” “What and if he prove the kind Of trifling gallant,” others said, “to slight Our mistress, for each new and base delight? “Ay, we will watch him, lest he do her wrong!” And his due station, even from the first, The peers of haughty rank and lineage long, Jealous of one whose blossom at a burst Outflamed their own, begrudged him; till their pique grew plain, and sent proud color to his cheek. So now he fared as some new actor fares, Who through dark arras gains the open boards, Facing the lights, and feels a thousand stares Come full upon him; and the great throng hoards Its plaudits; and, as he begins his tale, His rivals wait to mock him if he fail.