King Pharamond

As my twin sister, young of years was she and slender, Yellow blossoms of spring-tide her hands had been gathering, But the gown-lap that held them had fallen adown And had lain round her feet with the first of the singing; Now her singing had ceased, though yet heaved her bosom As with lips lightly parted and eyes of one seeking She stood face to face with the Love that she knew not, The love that she longed for and waited unwitting; She moved not, I breathed not--till lo, a horn winded, And she started, and o'er her came trouble and wonder, Came pallor and trembling; came a strain at my heartstrings As bodiless there I stretched hands toward her beauty, And voiceless cried out, as the cold mist swept o'er me. Then again clash of arms, and the morning watch calling, And the long leaves and great twisted trunks of the chesnuts, As I sprang to my feet and turned round to the trumpets And gathering of spears and unfolding of banners That first morn of my reign and my glory's beginning.