Henry Brocken

jug, pu-we,

MAS

tly after our gaunt shadow in the dust, and ever downward, till at last we

he hill I came to where a faint bridle-path diverged. And since it was smooth with moss, and Rosinante haply tired of pebbles; since

t might be after all only wings, mere sunbeams. Shall I say, then, that it began to be thorny, and, where the thorns were, pale with roses, when at length the knitte

ade, I left Rosinante to follow whithersoever a sweet tooth might d

the cold shallows none the less pleasantly, and was casting about for a deeper pool where I might bathe unscorned of the noonday, w

arelessly and loftily as I dared in their direction. My courage seemed to abash them a little; they gathered back their petticoats like birds about to fly. But at hi

old and very thirsty, above in the wood. Is there any path I

ery old?"

very old

ery thirsty?"

aps very thi

!" cried

ongue, and compelled to say something, and having nothing a

at each, and gla

n that is not steep," sai

ven, we fear, for a traveller

. "Forgive me, then," I said

med far from

"Julia thinks Fortune must have brought you. Are

o prove anything,

ck died. And here it seems we are like to sit till he rises again. It is all so-dubious. But since Electra has invited you to rest awhile, will you not really rest? There is shade as d

ing as of a peacock displaying his plumes; a

ere fantasies lovely as even their master had portrayed; while the dells th

, as snow when winter is over and gone, and dwelt among the sunbeams. Dew lay heavy on the grass, as the dainty heels of my captresses testi

ered with leaves and flowers of ivy and convolvulus, wherein two g

haps I was not so ill-content to be as I should like to profess. How then could I e

ing eyes, named Dianeme, "since we have got you

?" cried Electra, layi

ered. "There's not a lover mad, young, true, and tender, but borrows your azure, a

ed Julia softly, "b

ever," I

Dianeme. "Herrick wa

ying laughter in the woods. When the sun is sunk, and the stars kindle in the sky, then your eyes haunt the twilight. You come in dreams, and mock the waking. You the mystery; you the bravery and danger; you the long-sough

timidly, "we were not only l

pleasure else?

find where Styx flows one draught-my mere palmful-woul

eme; "Herrick himself ad

en of a kiss, that is ver

; few see. Most men have tongues

you a secret,

carried her voice, it seemed a

is all dry leaves in the hand. Herrick stole the honey, and the bees

t of pride, "that had I lived a little, little

birds' wailing," she continued in a low, strange voice, "and to some the glens of heather, and the mountain-brooks, and the rowans. But, come to an

hat?"

Robin Herric

lectra fetched out a lute from a low cupboard in the arbour, and while

have n

e from

too wild

f thou

anst n

t to sub

is my

thee

be sile

thou t

not th

and love'

ch another song, despite my drowsy lids. Wherefore I heard, far away as it

weet

er e

ered

hered

e when lov

ieve, lute

I

l thou g

for

t can s

órcised s

left to

thy s

s then

my b

e to gr

ke

not quite of this earth the voice, my sens

ndeed, were I now to be asked-Were the fingers cold of these bright ladies? Were their eyes blue, or hazel, or brown? or, haply, were Dianeme's that incomparable, dar

on the borders of evening. I caught up yet one more handful of cherries, and stumbled out, heavy and dim,

still by another sound that in the hush of the garden, in the bright l

rceived the cold, bright face of a little marble god beneath willows; and, seated upon a starry b

ou weeping

ng a little br

at is up; yet you

protect me

ought

s. There was a world, I dreamed, where autumn follows summer, an

would you h

m," she

oking sidelong was mu

run away? What

rget! Even had I been weeping, and not merely mocking time away, would my tears be of Lethe at my

in the midst of the dusk where the tiny torches burned s

smiling, I seemed to know then.

, and a querulous voice answered me from a