Who grew to love her; and she cherisht him
Till her own children stole from him her heart.
But when the long halls and slope-walk'd gardens wide
Sounded with children's voices, Tristram grown
To vigorous youth, the others prattlers mere,
One shadow - in the firelight of her eyes
Never illum'd, so dark her inmost thoughts
Stumbled against and knew each other not -
Lay o'er her heart: that he, the son of Beth,
Was kingdom's heir, and hers in second place
Must fall, who now was queen. The spark o' desire
Blacken'd thro' her scruples, till it flasht out hot
And quiver'd in a passionate fire of hate.
What way but thro' his death lay open to her?
How reach it, seeing hers was a woman's foot?
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