Then come and coax him from his gloom.--Thou only canst," said he.

"Wise counsellor!" she smiled; "Nay, but too wise for thy short years,
I will unto the king;--and such great issues are at stake
This time I dare not fail. I must go queenly--without tears
Or humble supplications--but as one no woe can break.

"Stay thou with thy old nurse, Beloved--she sitteth in the hall--
And she will tell thee wondrous tales, to win from thee a smile,
Then take thy supper by her side, and when deep night doth fall,
Go to the tower, whence I'll come, but in a little while."

Arrayed in her most lovely robes she took her stately way
By courtiers unattended, through the palace vast and still.
Her beauty was a thing to hold all bitterness at bay,
To move the hearts of men, and bend their spirits to her will!

She passed beneath the rose red lights that hung from roof and door,
And by unseeing gods, where curled an incense, blue and sweet;
As one who walks in sleep she crossed the cool mosaic floor,
That echoed to the music of her little sandalled feet.

She reached the council chamber and there entered silently;--
But though the bowing wise men had been reeds the wind could sway
Would have noted them as little. She only seemed to see
One face, inscrutable and dark, toward which she took her way.

The king sat still as Fate. "Most High," she said, "I come for truth
Of this new threat of vengeance. There is horror in the air;--
The Ethiopian runner hath brought word to me in sooth