 | Lays of France |  |
But in the separate place that death
Had found for him, to rest from life,
To dream upon it, or to wait,
Each of her lovers held the breath
Of his strong dauntless spirit rife
With memories; or content with late
Fair kisses on his mouth; or sure
Of heaven because of some sweet lure
Of looks or pledge or perfect vow
She made him,—doubting her not his
For ever in fair destinies.
Had found for him, to rest from life,
To dream upon it, or to wait,
Each of her lovers held the breath
106
With memories; or content with late
Fair kisses on his mouth; or sure
Of heaven because of some sweet lure
Of looks or pledge or perfect vow
She made him,—doubting her not his
For ever in fair destinies.
| Lays of France | |