But here a brave simplicity of soul And careless vigilance, by honor bred, Stayed him, and o’er his actions held control. A host of generous virtues stood in stead, To help him on; with patient manliness He kept his rank, no greater and no less; His life was as a limpid rivulet; His thoughts, like golden sands, were through it seen, Not on himself in poor ambition set, But on his chosen country and the Queen; And with such gentle tact he bore a sense Of conduct due, nor took nor gave offence, That, as time went, he earned their trust, who first Withheld it him, and brought them, one by one, To seek him for a comrade; but he nursed His friendships with such equal care that none Could claim him as their own; nor was his word Of counsel dulled by being often heard; Nor would he sully his fresh youth among The roisterers and pretty wanton dames Who strove to win him; nor with ribald tongue Joined in the talk that round a palace flames; Nor came and went alone, save—’twas his wont In his own land—he haply left the hunt On forest days, and, plunging down the wood, There in the brakes and copses half forgot The part he bore, and caught anew the mood Of youth, and felt a heart for any lot; Then, loitering cityward behind the train, With fresher courage took his place again. His pure life made the wits about the court Find in its very blamelessness a fault That lacked the generous failings of their sort. “With so much sweet,” they swore, “a grain of salt Were welcome! lighter tongue and freer mood Were something more of man, if less of prude!” And others to his praises would oppose Suspicion of his prowess, and they said, “Our rose of princes is a thornless rose, A woman’s toy!” and, when the months were sped, And the glad Queen was childed with a son, Light jests upon his mission well begun They bandied; yet the Prince, who felt the sting, Bided his time. Till on the land there brake A sudden warfare; for that haughty king, Gathering a mighty armament to take Revenge for his lost suit, with sword and flame Against the borders on short pretext came. Then with hot haste the Queen’s whole forces poured To meet him. With the call to horse and blade The Prince, deep-chafed in spirit, placed his sword At orders of the General, and prayed A humble station, but, as due his rank, Next in command was made, and led the flank. And so with doubtful poise a fierce war raged, Till on a day encountered face to face The two chief hosts, and dreadful battle waged To close the issue. In its opening space Death smote the General, and in tumult sore The line sank back; but swiftly, at the fore