Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/286

 Moreover, with a sort of reverence, For I shall never look on it again. And though your lady frown her face away To think of me in black, for God's indulgence, Array me not in scarlet or in yellow." And so it came to pass that Merlin sat At ease in purple, even though his chin Reproached him as he pinched it, and seemed yet A little fearful of its nakedness. He might have sat and scanned himself for ever Had not the careful Blaise, regarding him, Remarked again that in his proper judgment, And on the valid word of his attendants, No more was to be done. "Then do no more," Said Merlin, with a last look at his chin ; "Never do more when there's no more to do, And you may shun thereby the bitter taste Of many disillusions and regrets. God's pity on us that our words have wings And leave our deeds to crawl so far below them; For we have all two heights, we men who dream, Whether we lead or follow, rule or serve." "God's pity on us anyhow," Blaise answered, "Or most of us. Meanwhile, I have to say, As long as you are here, and I'm alive, Your summons will assure the loyalty Of all my diligence and expedition. The gong that you hear singing in the distance Was rung for your attention and your presence."- "I wonder at this fellow, yet I like him," Said Merlin ; and he rose to follow him. The lady Vivian in a fragile sheath Of crimson, dimmed and veiled ineffably By the flame-shaken gloom wherein she sat,