There are two guests at table now；The king，deposed and older grown，No longer occupies the throne，The crown is on his sister’s brow；A Princess from the Fairy Isles，The very pattern girl of girls，All cover‘d and embower’d in curls，Rosetinted from the Isle of Flowers And sailing with soft，silken sails From faroff Dreamland into ours.Above their bowls with rims of blue Four azure eyes of deeper hueAre looking，dreamy with delight；Limpid as planets that emerge Above the ocean‘s rounded verge，Softshining through the summer night.Steadfast they gaze，yet nothing see Beyond the horizon of their bowls；Nor care they for the world that rolls With all its freight of troubled souls Into the days that are to be.
V.
Again the tossing boughs shut out the scene，Again the drifting vapours intervene，And the moon’s pallid disk is hidden quite；And now I see the table wider grown，As round a pebble into water thrownDilates a ring of light.
I see it garlanded with guests，As if fair Ariadne‘s CrownOut of the sky had fallen down；Maidens within whose tender breasts A thousand restless hopes and fears，Forth reaching to the coming years，Flutter awhile，then quiet lie，Like timid birds that fain would fly，But do not dare to leave their nests；And youths，who in their strength elateChallenge the van and front of fate，Eager as champions to beIn the divine knighterrantryOf youth，that travels sea and land Seeking adventures，or pursues，Through cities，and through solitudes Frequented by the lyric Muse，The phantom with the beckoning hand，That still allures and still eludes.
O sweet illusions of the brain！
O sudden thrills of fire and frost！The world is bright while ye remain，And dark and dead when ye are lost！
VI.
The meadowbrook，that seemeth to stand still，Quickens its current as it nears the mill；And so the stream of Time that lingereth In level places，and so dull appears，Runs with a swifter current as it nears The gloomy mills of Death.
And now，like the magician’s scroll，That in the owner‘s keeping shrinks With every wish he speaks or thinks，Till the last wish consumes the whole，The table dwindles，and againI see the two alone remain.
The crown of stars is broken in parts；Its jewels，brighter than the day，Have one by one been stolen away To shine in other homes and hearts.One is a wanderer now afarIn Ceylon or in Zanzibar，Or sunny regions of Cathay；And one is in the boisterous camp Mid clink of arms and horses’tramp，And battle‘s terrible array.
With aching heart，of wrecks that float Disabled on those seas remote，Or of some great heroic deedOn battlefields，where thousands bleed To lift one hero into fame.
Anxious she bends her graceful head Above these chronicles of pain，And trembles with a secret dreadLest there among the drown’d or slain She find the one belovèd name.
VII.
After a day of cloud and wind and rain Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again，And，touching all the darksome woods with light，Smiles on the fields，until they laugh and sing，Then like a ruby from the horizon‘s ring Drops down into the night.
What see I now？The night is fair，The storm of grief，the clouds of care，The wind，the rain，have pass’d away；The lamps are lit，the fires burn bright，The house is full of life and light：
It is the Golden Wedding day.
The guests come thronging in once more，Quick footsteps sound along the floor，The trooping children crowd the stair，And in and out and everywhereFlashes along the corridorThe sunshine of their golden hair.
On the round table in the hall Another Ariadne‘s CrownOut of the sky hath fallen down；More than one Monarch of the Moon Is drumming with his silver spoon；The light of love shines over all.
O fortunate，O happy day！
The people sing，the people say.
The ancient bridegroom and the bride，Smiling contented and sereneUpon the blithe，bewildering scene，Behold，well pleas’d，on every side Their forms and features multiplied，As the reflection of a lightBetween two burnish‘d mirrors gleams，Or lamps upon a bridge at night Stretch on and on before the sight，Till the long vista endless seems.
