“Home they brought her warrior dead”

From “The Princess” HOME they brought her warrior dead:   She nor swooned, nor uttered cry; All her maidens, watching, said,   “She must weep or she will die.” Then they praised him, soft and low,   Called him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe;   Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place,   Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the face-cloth from the face;   Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years,   Set his child upon her knee,— Like summer tempest came her tears,   “Sweet my child, I live for thee.”