Book Two The Woman - Chapter 21 Of the Opening of the Door and How Charmian Blew Out the Light

He bestrode a powerful black charger, and his armor glittered
through the green. And, as he rode beneath the leafy arches of
the wood, he lifted up his voice, and sang, and the song was
mournful, and of a plaintive seeming, and rang loud behind his
visor-bars; therefore, as I sat beside the freshet, I hearkened
to his song: "For her love I carke, and care,
For her love I droop, and dare,
For her love my bliss is bare.
And I wax wan!"

Forth he rode from the shadowy woodland, pacing very solemn and
slow; and thrice he struck his iron hand upon his iron breast.

"For her love, in sleep I slake,
For her love, all night I wake,
For her love, I mourning make
More than any man!"

Now, being come to where I sat beside the brook, he checked his
horse, and gazed full long upon me, and his eyes shone from the
gloom of his helmet.

"Messire," quoth be; "how like you my song?"

"But little, sir--to be plain with you, not a whit," I answered.

"And, beseech you--wherefore?"

"Because it is folly--away with it, for, if your head be full of
such, how shall you achieve any lasting good--Glory, Learning,
Power?" But, sighing, he shook his head; quoth he: "O Blind One!--Glory is but a name, Learning but a yearning
emptiness, and whither leadeth Ambition? Man is a mote dancing
in a sun-ray--the world, a speck hanging in space. All things
vanish and pass utterly away save only True-love, and that
abideth everlastingly; 'tis sweeter than Life, and stronger than
Death, and reacheth up beyond the stars; and thus it is I pray
you tell me--where is she?"