His anxious face with fierce desire that But her late foe stopped short amidst his burned. course, 120 So was the pageant ended, and all folk. Talking of this and that familiar thing But midst the loud victorious shouts he In little groups from that sad concourse heard Her footsteps drawing nearer, and the sound Of fluttering raiment, and thereat afeard His flushed and eager face he turned around, broke; 136 For now the shrill bats were upon the wing, And soon dark night would slay the evening, And in dark gardens sang the nightingale And even then he felt her past him bound Her little-heeded, oft-repeated tale. 140 Nor otherwhere since that day doth she dwell, Sending too many a noble soul to hell.What! thine eyes glisten? what then, thinkest thou Her shining head unto the yoke to bow? 175 "Listen, my son, and love some other maid, For she the saffron gown will never wear, And on no flower-strewn couch shall she be laid, Nor shall her voice make glad a lover's ear; Yet if of Death thou hast not any fear, 180 Yea, rather, if thou lovest him utterly, Thou still may'st woo her ere thou com'st to die, |