And in lone hours of many a moonless night, Through jetting poplars and the shooting snags Of wrinkled oaks, the king doth seek a light From his heart's questionings, whose purpose flags Before her face, lest in her eye's clear sight One thought of faithlessness a moment read Should bring to birth the thing he most doth dread.
Strong in the strength that finds in gentleness A way to peace, King Eochaidh on the throne Of Erin sits. Around his footstool press High cares of sovereignty, that crowd his own Like gossips out of doors, and ease the stress Of storming thought which, held from question clear, Fears its mute doubt, yet vaguely doubts its fear.
In silent step, hushed pulse, and listening gaze, He marks expectancy behind her smile, Like some faint gleam from half-remembered days Ere the high Gods had blown them to this isle Among inscrutable divided ways, Some hidden destiny to mar or make In hands as strong to give as quick to take.
Now to the king the hollow moments haste Across his heart to some heart-emptied hour: And now he frets to leap with sinews braced Through lagging days and meet the threatening power. Yet from his conflict, inner lips now taste The mingled wine of sweet and bitter fate-- Strength to withstand, Endurance to await.
These not as gifts the shadowy troublers bear, But on his table spread what is his own. So mused the king: "Not all from spade and share The harvest comes: seed to its fruit has grown, Self-shaped, though stirred by smart of sun and air; And in life's myriad hands beaten and pressed, Man is not made, but man made manifest."
So finding gain in threatened loss, his mind Self-poised, through sorrow and joy makes even way, Content if, toiling past, his fingers find Her fingers, and in trembling silence say, "Here in unstable circumstance entwined We two have kissed, and whither we may tend, Once mixed, must find each other at the end."
And she within her heart's most secret place Has nursed a thought that grew from day to day, Like wind-borne seed that on a rocky face Finds root and strength to shatter ancient sway, A thought of Love that chafes at time and space, And moves from Love that was through Love to be To some exalted end no eye can see.