And Hither Brought By Tristram For His Last Love-Offering And Peace-Offering Unto Thee.' He Spoke, He Turned, Then, Flinging Round Her Neck, Claspt It, And Cried, `Thine Order, O My Queen!' But, While He Bowed To Kiss The Jewelled Throat, Out Of The Dark, Just As The Lips Had Touched, Behind Him Rose A Shadow And A Shriek-- `Mark'S Way,' Said Mark, And Clove Him Through The Brain. That Night Came Arthur Home, And While He Climbed, All In A Death-Dumb Autumn-Dripping Gloom, The Stairway To The Hall, And Looked And Saw The Great Queen'S Bower Was Dark,--About His Feet A Voice Clung Sobbing Till He Questioned It, `What Art Thou?' And The Voice About His Feet Sent Up An Answer, Sobbing, `I Am Thy Fool, And I Shall Never Make Thee Smile Again.'