Then the queen saith,‘ Woman's wit
No man asketh aid of it,
Not wild hyssop on a wall
Is of less account; or small
Glossy gnats that flit i’ the sun
Less worth weighing — light so light!
Yet when all's said — ay, all done,
Love, I love thee! By love's might
I will counsel thee aright,
Or would share the weird to-night.’
Then he answer'd‘ Have thy way.
Know‘ t is two years gone and a day
Since I, walking lone and late,
Pondered sore mine ill estate;
Open murmurers, foes concealed,
Famines dire i’ the marches round,
Neighbour kings unfriendly found,
Ay, and treacherous plots revealed
Where I trusted. I bid stay
All my knights at the high crossway,
And did down the forest fare
To bethink me, and despair.
‘ Ah! thou gilded toy a throne,
If one mounts to thee alone,
Quoth I, mourning while I went,
Haply he may drop content
As a lark wing-weary down
To the level, and his crown
Leave for another man to don;
Throne, thy gold steps raised upon.
But for me — O as for me
What is named I would not dree,
Earn, or conquer, or forego
For the barring of overthrow.’