Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/316

THE BLAMELESS PRINCE One final hour, with stammering voice and halt,

The Prince said: "Dear, for you,—whose only gain

Was in your love that made such long default

To self,—Heaven deems you sinless! but a pain

Is on my soul, and shadow of guilt threefold:

First, in your fair life, fettered by my hold;

Who worships me, unknowing; worse than all,

To wear before the world this painted mien!

See to it: on my head some bolt will fall!

We have sweet memories of the good years past,

Now let this secret league no longer last."

So of her love and pure unselfishness

She yielded at his word, yet fain would pray

For one more tryst, one day of tenderness,

Where first their lives were mated. Such a day

Found them entwined together, met to part,

Lips pressed to lips, and voiceless grief at heart.

And last the Prince drew off his signet-stone

And gave it to his mistress,—as he rose

To shut the book of happy moments gone,

For so all earthly pleasures find a close,—

Yet promised, at her time of utmost need

And summons by that token, to take heed

And do her will. "And from this hour," he said,

"No woman's kiss save one my lips shall know."

So left her pale and trembling there, and fled,

Nor looked again, resolved it must be so;

But somewhere gained his horse, and through the wood

Moved homeward with his thoughts, a phantom brood

That turned the long past over in his mind,

Poising its good and evil, while a haze 286