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Guendolen.
Carven goblets from the wall
    Cast red flecks about the floor;
    From over window and bolted door
Antlers vast fling round the hall
Shadowy arms that rise and fall
Whenever the flames spring up to make
The fresh-heaped fagots curl and break.
The hound sleeps fast on the warm hearth stone,
And, with dropt ears and muzzle thrown
Over his slender outstretched limbs.
Dreams deeper as the firelight dims:
    But Guendolen is wide awake;
Vassal and lord to the chase have gone;
Ralph and the dame and the drowsy crone
Watch in Sir Ethel's hall alone.

Wide awake was Guendolen;
   Sometimes she paced the oaken floor,
    Or, pausing at the barred door,
    Hearkened a space, and turning then
Hung musing o'er the flames again.
Sometimes she teased the bird, that still,
    Hiding under its painted wing,