PART I

Enough of rose-bud lips, and eyes Like harebells bathed in dew, Of cheek that with carnation vies, And veins of violet hue;[651] Earth wants not beauty that may scorn 5 A likening to frail flowers; Yea, to the stars, if they were born[652] For seasons and for hours.

Through Moscow's gates, with gold unbarred,[653] Stepped One at dead of night, 10 Whom such high beauty could not guard From meditated blight; By stealth she passed, and fled as fast As doth the hunted fawn, Nor stopped, till in the dappling east 15 Appeared unwelcome dawn.

Seven days she lurked in brake and field, Seven nights her course renewed, Sustained by what her scrip might yield, Or berries of the wood; 20 At length, in darkness travelling on, When lowly doors were shut, The haven of her hope she won, Her Foster-mother's hut.

"To put your love to dangerous proof 25 I come," said she, "from far; For I have left my Father's roof, In terror of the Czar." No answer did the Matron give, No second look she cast, 30 But hung upon the Fugitive,[654] Embracing and embraced.

She led the Lady[655] to a seat Beside the glimmering fire, Bathed duteously her wayworn feet, 35 Prevented each desire:-- The cricket chirped, the house-dog dozed, And on that simple bed, Where she in childhood had reposed, Now rests her weary head. 40

When she, whose couch had been the sod, Whose curtain, pine or thorn, Had breathed a sigh of thanks to God, Who comforts the forlorn; While over her the Matron bent 45 Sleep sealed her eyes, and stole Feeling from limbs with travel spent, And trouble from the soul.

Refreshed, the Wanderer rose at morn, And soon again was dight 50 In those unworthy vestments worn Through long and perilous flight; And "O beloved Nurse," she said, "My thanks with silent tears Have unto Heaven and You been paid: 55 Now listen to my fears!

"Have you forgot"--and here she smiled-- "The babbling flatteries You lavished on me when a child Disporting round your knees? 60 I was your lambkin, and your bird, Your star, your gem, your flower; Light words, that were more lightly heard In many a cloudless hour!

"The blossom you so fondly praised 65 Is come to bitter fruit; A mighty One upon me gazed; I spurned his lawless suit, And must be hidden from his wrath:[656] You, Foster-father dear, 70 Will guide me in my forward path; I may not tarry here!

"I cannot bring to utter woe Your proved fidelity."---- "Dear Child, sweet Mistress, say not so! 75 For you we both would die." "Nay, nay, I come with semblance feigned And cheek embrowned by art; Yet, being inwardly unstained, With courage will depart." 80

"But whither would you, could you, flee? A poor Man's counsel take; The Holy Virgin gives to me A thought for your dear sake; Rest, shielded by our Lady's grace, 85 And soon shall you be led Forth to a safe abiding-place, Where never foot doth tread."