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72
THE LOVER'S TALE.
IV.
the golden supper.
(Another speaks.)
He flies the event: he leaves the event to me:
Poor Julian—how he rush'd away; the bells,
Those marriage-bells, echoing in ear and heart—
But cast a parting glance at me, you saw,
As who should say 'Continue.' Well, he had
One golden hour—of triumph shall I say?
Solace at least—before he left his home.
Would you had seen him in that hour of his!
He moved thro' all of it majestically—
Restrain'd himself quite to the close—but now—
