Chapter L: I only see your face

(She touches his hair with her hands. Murmuring under the tower.)

K. Why came we here in all the noon-day light With only darting swallows over us To make a speck of darkness on the sun? Let us go down where walls will shut us round. Your castle has a hundred quiet halls, A hundred chambers, where the shadows lie On things put by, forgotten long ago. Forgotten lutes with strings that Time has slackened, We two shall draw them close and bid them sing-- Forgotten games, forgotten books still open Where you had laid them by at vesper-time, And your embroidery, whereon half-worked Weeps Amor wounded by a rose's thorn. Shall I not see the room in which you slept, Palpitant still and breathing of your thoughts, Where maiden dreams adown the ways of sleep Swept noiselessly with damosels and knights To tourneys where the trumpet made no sound, Blow as he might, the scarlet trumpeter, And were the dreams not sometimes brimmed with tears That waked you when the night was loneliest? Will you not bring me to your oratory Where prayers arose like little birds set free Still upward, upward without sound of flight? Shall I not find your turrets toward the north, Where you defied white winter armed for war; Your southern casements where the sun blows in Between the leaf-bent boughs the wind has lifted? Shall we not see the sunrise toward the east, Watch dawn by dawn the rose of day unfolding Its golden-hearted beauty sovereignly; And toward the west look quietly at evening? Shall I not see all these and all your treasures? In carven coffers hidden in the dark Have you not laid a sapphire lit with flame And amethysts set round with deep-wrought gold, Perhaps a ruby?

L. All my gems are yours And all my chambers curtained from the sun. My lord shall see them all, in time, in time.

(The sun begins to sink.)

K. Shall I not see them now? To-day, to-night?