Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/304

THE BLAMELESS PRINCE His horses trod on flowers; the city shone

With flags of victory; and none but now—

As with no vaunting mien he wore his bays—

Confessed him brave as good, and gave their praise.

smiled anew; the kingdom was at rest.

Ah, happy Queen! whom every matron's tongue

Ran envious of, with such a consort blest

As wins the heart of women, old and young;

So gallant, yet so good, the gentlest maid

By this fair standard her own suitor weighed.

I hold the perfect mating of two souls,

Through wedded love, to be the sum of bliss.

When Earth, this fruit that ripens as it rolls

In sunlight, grows more prime, lives will not miss

Their counterparts, and each shall find its own;

But now with what blind chance the lots are thrown!

And because Love sets with a rising tide

Along the drift where much has gone before

One holds of worth,—we lavish first, beside,

Heart, honors, regal gifts, and love the more

When yielding most,—for this the Queen's love knew

No slack, but still its current deeper grew.

And because Love is free, and follows not

On gratitude, nor comes from what is given

So much as on the giving; and, I wot,

Partly because it irks one to have thriven

At hands which seem the weaker, and should thrive

While those of him they cling to lift and strive;

And partly that his marriage seemed a height

Which raised him from the passions of our kind, 274