HOW THE ROSE BECAME RED. 
61 
She recalled his attitude as he untwined himself 
from her embrace, and hurried off in pursuit of his 
steed, which had snapped the rein, that secured it 
to the branch of a neighbouring oak, and started at 
full speed down one of the wild avenues of the 
forest. In fancy she again saw him, as he sat 
panting upon the ground, wearied with the fruitless 
pursuit; and how, kneeling down, she then 
“ Took him gently by the hand, 
A lily prison’d in a gaol of snow : 
Or ivory in an alabaster band : 
So white a friend engirt so white a foe ; 
A beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling, 
Showed like two silver doves that sat a-billing.” 
And as she looked upon him, she imagined that 
his lips moved again, as when they said, “ Give me 
my hand, why dost thou feel it 1 ” she fancied she 
again felt his face upon her cheek — his kisses upon 
her lips, as when she fell down and feigned herself 
dead ; the while he bent her fingers and felt her 
pulse, and endeavoured, by a hundred endearments 
and tender expressions, to restore her. And how, 
when she pretended to recover, she paid him back 
again with unnumbered kisses, whilst he, wearied 
with opposing her, no longer offered any resistance ; 
and how, at last, he broke from her fair arms, and, 
darting down “the dark lawn,” left her seated alone 
upon the ground. 
