THE WANDERERS
Out from her doorway peeped the little maid
To gaze upon the world most full of glee.
Her eager eyes all bright and unafraid,
Her smooth cheek flushed with joy of things to be.
Nor did she stay because long shadows fleet
Did seek the sun for some too slow eclipse;
She shut the door behind her daring feet,
And hastened forth, a song upon her lips.
Deep in her heart a timid dream's unrest,
A chidden thought not all forbid to stay,
Of how, as from life's fruit she plucked the best,
A splendid knight would ride upon her way.
There was for her no danger in the shade,
No evil in the whisper of the wind,
Out from her home sped forth the little maid,
And closed the door her eager feet behind.
Did you not know her? Woman, pale of cheek.
Dim-eyed and weary, pray you stop and tell—
The years are long, the grave is far to seek.
Rest you a little—you who knew her well.
The splendid youth—was he but all a dream?
Came he not forth in armour's bright array,
Fore of the battle did his banner stream.
In eager hand uplifted for the fray?
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