A STORY OF OLDEN TIME.
35
Half roused from heavy dreams, spake slow,—"This dawn to me breaks dim;
I pray thee lift me off from steed ere yet my senses swim,
And bear me to the little well that springs beneath the hill,—
Thou knowest it?" But then the Knight spake soothingly and still,—
"A little, little space, dear youth, yet bear thee up, be strong;
My gentle lady waits for us." "Nay, she hath waited long,
So may she tarry yet a while. Oh, bear me to the place
Where now I hear the waters flow—I ask it of thy grace!"
I pray thee lift me off from steed ere yet my senses swim,
And bear me to the little well that springs beneath the hill,—
Thou knowest it?" But then the Knight spake soothingly and still,—
"A little, little space, dear youth, yet bear thee up, be strong;
My gentle lady waits for us." "Nay, she hath waited long,
So may she tarry yet a while. Oh, bear me to the place
Where now I hear the waters flow—I ask it of thy grace!"
Then kind, as one with feebleness that will contend no more,
The good Knight lifted him from steed, and tenderly him bore,
Light as an infant in his arms, and passive as the dead,
Adown the grassy, woodland path, with firm and cautious tread;
And after them a sunbeam slid, a glitter struck all through
The dell, thrid deep with gossamers and films besprent with dew;
The good Knight lifted him from steed, and tenderly him bore,
Light as an infant in his arms, and passive as the dead,
Adown the grassy, woodland path, with firm and cautious tread;
And after them a sunbeam slid, a glitter struck all through
The dell, thrid deep with gossamers and films besprent with dew;
