14 
THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 
Her perfect eyelids drooped, her warm cheek 
paled, 
A tear stole over it.  His lips repent 
With vain weak words—O iron firmament! 
How vain, how cold are words !—his lips repeat 
Their faint sweet savour, but her rosy feet 
Held in his hands and touched with reverent lips 
Revived her soul more perfectly.  Soon slips 
Her gentle answer ;  now her timid eyes 
So tender with the lifted lashes rise 
To meet his gaze. 
He spoke :  “ Have pity on me 
Who wronged thee for my perfect love of thee, 
My perfect love, O love !  for strange and dread 
Delights consume me ;  I am as one dead 
Beating at Heaven’s gate with nerveless wing, 
Wailing because the song the immortals sing 
Is so fast barred behind the iron sky. 
Speak but thine anger quickly ;  let me die ! ” 
“ But I forgive thee, thou art good and kind. ” 
“ O love !  O love !  O mistress of my mind, 
You love me ! ”  “ Nay, I was a while afraid, 
Being so white and tender ;  for a maid 
I lived alone with flower and brook, nor guessed 
Another dwelt within the quiet nest