Over the world of winter strays the King, 58 Seeking some track of hope--some savage prey Which, famish'd, fronts and feeds the famishing; Or some dim outlet in the darkling way From the dumb grave of snows which form with snows Wastes wide as realms through which a spectre goes. Amazed he halts:--Lo, on the rimy layer 59 That clothes sharp peaks--the print of human feet! An awe thrill'd through him, and thus spoke in prayer, "Thee, God, in man once more then do I greet? Hast thou vouchsafed the brother to the brother, Links which reweave thy children to each other? "Be they the rudest of the clay divine, 60 Warm with the breath of soul, how faint so ever, Yea, though their race but threat new ills to mine, All hail the bond thy sons cannot dissever! Bow'd to thy will, of life or death dispose, But if not human friends, grant human foes!" Thus while he pray'd, blithe from his bosom flew 61 The guiding Dove, along the frozen plain Of a mute river, winding vale-like through Rocks lost in vapour from the voiceless main. And as the man pursues, more thickly seen, The foot-prints tell where man before has been. Sudden a voice--a yell, a whistling dart! 62 Dim through the fog, behold a dwarf-like band (As from the inner earth, its goblins) start; Here threatening rush, there hoarsely gibbering stand! Halts the firm hero; mild but undismay'd, Grasps the charm'd hilt, but will not bare the blade. And with a kingly gesture eloquent, 63 Seems to command the peace, not shun the fray; Daunted they back recoil, yet not relent; As Indians round the forest lord at bay, Beyond his reach they form the deathful ring, And every shaft is fitted to the string. When in the circle a grand shape appears, 64 Day's lofty child amid those dwarfs of Night, Ev'n through the hides of beasts (its garb) it rears The glorious aspect of a son of light. Hush'd at that presence was the clamouring crowd; Dropp'd every hand and every knee was bow'd. Forth stepp'd the man, advancing towards the King; 65 And his own language smote the Cymrian's ear, "What fates, unhappy one, a stranger bring To shores,"--he started, stopp'd,--and bounded near; Gazed on that front august, a moment's space,-- Rush'd,--lock'd the wanderer in a long embrace; Weeping and laughing in a breath, the cheek, 66 The lip he kiss'd--then kneeling, clasp'd the hand; And gasping, sobbing, sought in vain to speak-- Meanwhile the King the beard-grown visage scann'd: Amazed--he knew his Carduel's comely lord, And the warm heart to heart as warm restored!