Xvii

And paler than moonlight and marble He lay on the red of that robe, Lay white at her feet on the scarlet, With silence-sealed lips and the glitter Of tears in each violet globe Of his eyes.--And she said: "It is bitter To see him so still on this robe, Like marble so still on this robe." Then she knelt and cried out, "Art thou living? Or dead?--Have I slain thee with song?-- I gave thee the best in my giving, But all that I gave thee seems wrong!-- No blessing, a curse was my song! A curse and a sorrow my song!"