"But, at the painter's evening rest
    She crept within his arm,
And only talk'd of Fairy Land
    Of magic dream and charm.

"And her young face would kindle up
    With her own eloquence.
And o'er her eyes, as full as floods,
    The soul-light flash'd intense.

"The while the fay on Una's mind
    Wrought with her spells of might,
Till heaven and earth were glorified
    Before its quicken'd sight.

"Of sunsets grand, of moonlights calm,
    She caught the secret spell;
Yea, o'er her from the meanest things
    Some drops of beauty fell.

"Till Nature's vivid life-glow, strong
    As flame, her spirit fill'd,
And to its hidden harmonies
    Her being throbbed and thrill'd.

"With love, and truth, and faëry pass'd,
    As flow'd the years along,
The beauty gather'd round her heart
    Stream'd forth in glorious song.

"And o'er her early girlhood shone
    The silver star of fame;
For one grand poem, through all hearts,
    Swept music round her name.

"Then, woo'd by rich and noble, still
    She clung to her first friend,
Wrapping her painful hours in love,
    She soothed them to the end.

"For the end came. Ah, human life!
    When his first fame was won,
Those lips were growing cold whose praise
    Was sweetest to her son.

"But wistful were the dying eyes;
    With Una's hand she tried
To clasp her son's, and kiss them close;
    But, in the effort died.

"They stood beside the silent bed,
    They grudged her not her heaven;
They knew that death was but to her
    An iron fetter riven.

"He closed the quiet lids, and then
    Broke forth in bitter tone,
That saddest knell of love and hope,—
    The words, 'I am alone!'

"'No, Una, no, my mother's love
    Saw not the sacrifice;
I care not to have happiness,
    If thine must pay the price.

"'I bless thee that thy glad young life
    Did here its sunshine waste;
But shall it light the wind-swept rock
    Amid the breakers placed?

"'Yet, O, mistake me not! Were I
     A prince, young, fair, and grand,
And thou a peasant, I would wear
    My life out for thy hand.

"'A singing-bird to dungeon'd man
    Was ne'er a richer dower,
But round the wild bird's nest should swell
    The verdure of a bower.'

"A wave of crimson dyed the lips
    That answer'd very low,
'Not from a dungeon, but an ark,
    Ernest, thou bidd'st me go!

"'The friendless child, in years gone past,
    Your kind hearts shelter gave;
Now death hath robb'd me, worse thou art,
    To take the last I have.

"'O, if thou art a wave-wash'd rock,
    A little shell am I.
That clings, and fears nor wave nor wind,
    But will, unfasten'd, die.'

"He trembles; for, with fear and hope
    His pulses wax and wane;
She was so dear a prize to clasp,
    But, O, too dear to chain.

"He spoke with broken passionate words:
    'Thou knowest a noble earl
Would fain exchange his coronet
    To win so fair a pearl.'

"Lightly, and yet with filling eyes,
    She said, 'So let it be:
For any king could make an earl,
    But the king's King made thee.'

"'And grey and worn, mayhap with care,
    Yet am I past my prime;
While lingers on thy hair the first,
    The silver wave of time.

"'But I am poor. Canst thou for love
    Bring down thy rising fame,
To hide it in an anxious home,
    Beneath an unknown name?'

"'To me, thy grey hairs records be
    Of years of kindness gone;
The heights of fame, as cold as clear,
    Can ne'er be woman's throne.

"'For, O, if ever lovely thought
    Made music through my lays,
My heart but leap'd to one dear hope,
    This thought will Ernest praise.

"'I love my fame, when in thine eyes
    Shines its reflected light,
And thou dost flush to hear it named,—
    Then fame is exquisite.

"'We'll climb its hill—for thou shalt climb—
    Through storm or sunny weather.
It will be pleasant to look down,
    When we've grown great together.'

"His arms were round her when she ceased,
    The dark eyes, on his breast,
Wept forth the soft, relieving tears
    Of feeling long suppress'd.

"And when their mother's grave was closed,
    Una the painter wed,
And left her own fay-haunted home,
    To humbler shelter led.