His clay cold hand she seized him by
And led him to her bower! --'Love, tremble not: within our sky
No clouds of sorrow lower.'
Then on her fair and glowing breast
That, heaving, throbbed the more
She pressed his hands: and fondly kissed
His cold lips o'er and o'er. --'Far have you come!'--'Yes very far.'
--'Rough was the raging sea?'
--'It was.'--'Why come you armed for war? Nay tell thy thoughts to me.'
She doffed his armour, and the dew
Of roses, scenting wide,
In liquid drops she o'er him threw
And laid him by her side.