The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Volume 2

RHYME OF THE DUCHESS MAY

ITo the belfry, one by one, went the ringers from the sun,Toll slowly.And the oldest ringer said, "Ours is music for the deadWhen the rebecks are all done."IISix abeles i' the churchyard grow on the north side in a row,Toll slowly.And the shadows of their tops rock across the little slopesOf the grassy graves below.IIIOn the south side and the west a small river runs in haste,Toll slowly.And, between the river flowing and the fair green trees a-growing,Do the dead lie at their rest.IVOn the east I sate that day, up against a willow grey:Toll slowly.Through the rain of willow-branches I could see the low hill-rangesAnd the river on its way.VThere I sate beneath the tree, and the bell tolled solemnly,Toll slowly.While the trees' and river's voices flowed between the solemn noises, —Yet death seemed more loud to me.VIThere I read this ancient rhyme while the bell did all the timeToll slowly.And the solemn knell fell in with the tale of life and sin,Like a rhythmic fate sublime.

THE RHYME

IBroad the forests stood (I read) on the hills of Linteged,Toll slowly.And three hundred years had stood mute adown each hoary wood,Like a full heart having prayed.IIAnd the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west,Toll slowly.And but little thought was theirs of the silent antique years,In the building of their nest.IIIDown the sun dropt large and red on the towers of Linteged, —Toll slowly.Lance and spear upon the height, bristling strange in fiery light,While the castle stood in shade.IVThere the castle stood up black with the red sun at its back —Toll slowly—Like a sullen smouldering pyre with a top that flickers fireWhen the wind is on its track.VAnd five hundred archers tall did besiege the castle wall —Toll slowly.And the castle, seethed in blood, fourteen days and nights had stoodAnd to-night was near its fall.VIYet thereunto, blind to doom, three months since, a bride did come —Toll slowly.One who proudly trod the floors and softly whispered in the doors,"May good angels bless our home."VIIOh, a bride of queenly eyes, with a front of constancies:Toll slowly.Oh, a bride of cordial mouth where the untired smile of youthDid light outward its own sighs!VIII'T was a Duke's fair orphan-girl, and her uncle's ward – the Earl —Toll slowly.Who betrothed her twelve years old, for the sake of dowry gold,To his son Lord Leigh the churl.IXBut what time she had made good all her years of womanhood —Toll slowly.Unto both these lords of Leigh spake she out right sovranly,"My will runneth as my blood.X"And while this same blood makes red this same right hand's veins," she said —Toll slowly—"'T is my will, as lady free, not to wed a lord of Leigh,But Sir Guy of Linteged."XIThe old Earl he smilèd smooth, then he sighed for wilful youth —Toll slowly."Good my niece, that hand withal looketh somewhat soft and smallFor so large a will, in sooth."XIIShe too smiled by that same sign, but her smile was cold and fine —Toll slowly."Little hand clasps muckle gold, or it were not worth the holdOf thy son, good uncle mine!"XIIIThen the young lord jerked his breath, and sware thickly in his teeth —Toll slowly—"He would wed his own betrothed, an she loved him an she loathed,Let the life come or the death."XIVUp she rose with scornful eyes, as her father's child might rise —Toll slowly."Thy hound's blood, my lord of Leigh, stains thy knightly heel," quoth she,"And he moans not where he lies:XV"But a woman's will dies hard, in the hall or on the sward" —Toll slowly."By that grave, my lords, which made me orphaned girl and dowered lady,I deny you wife and ward!"XVIUnto each she bowed her head and swept past with lofty tread.Toll slowly.Ere the midnight-bell had ceased, in the chapel had the priestBlessed her, bride of Linteged.XVIIFast and fain the bridal train along the night-storm rode amain —Toll slowly.Hard the steeds of lord and serf struck their hoofs out on the turf,In the pauses of the rain.XVIIIFast and fain the kinsmen's train along the storm pursued amain —Toll slowly.Steed on steed-track, dashing off, – thickening, doubling, hoof on hoof,In the pauses of the rain.XIXAnd the bridegroom led the flight on his red-roan steed of might —Toll slowly.And the bride lay on his arm, still, as if she feared no harm,Smiling out into the night.XX"Dost thou fear?" he said at last. "Nay," she answered him in haste, —Toll slowly."Not such death as we could find – only life with one behind.Ride on fast as fear, ride fast!"XXIUp the mountain wheeled the steed – girth to ground, and fetlocks spread —Toll slowly.Headlong bounds, and rocking flanks, – down he staggered, down the banks,To the towers of Linteged.XXIIHigh and low the serfs looked out, red the flambeaus tossed about —Toll slowly.In the courtyard rose the cry, "Live the Duchess and Sir Guy!"But she never heard them shout.XXIIIOn the steed she dropped her cheek, kissed his mane and kissed his neck —Toll slowly."I had happier died by thee than lived on, a Lady Leigh,"Were the first words she did speak.XXIVBut a three months' joyaunce lay 'twixt that moment and to-day —Toll slowly.When five hundred archers tall stand beside the castle wallTo recapture Duchess May.XXVAnd the castle standeth black with the red sun at its back —Toll slowly.And a fortnight's siege is done, and, except the duchess, noneCan misdoubt the coming wrack.XXVIThen the captain, young Lord Leigh, with his eyes so grey of blee —Toll slowly.And thin lips that scarcely sheath the cold white gnashing of his teeth,Gnashed in smiling, absently, —XXVIICried aloud, "So goes the day, bridegroom fair of Duchess May!"Toll slowly."Look thy last upon that sun! if thou seest to-morrow's one'T will be through a foot of clay.XXVIII"Ha, fair bride! dost hear no sound save that moaning of the hound?"Toll slowly."Thou and I have parted troth, yet I keep my vengeance-oath,And the other may come round.XXIX"Ha! thy will is brave to dare, and thy new love past compare" —Toll slowly."Yet thine old love's falchion brave is as strong a thing to have,As the will of lady fair.XXX"Peck on blindly, netted dove! If a wife's name thee behove" —Toll slowly—"Thou shalt wear the same to-morrow, ere the grave has hid the sorrowOf thy last ill-mated love.XXXI"O'er his fixed and silent mouth, thou and I will call back troth":Toll slowly."He shall altar be and priest, – and he will not cry at least'I forbid you, I am loth!'XXXII"I will wring thy fingers pale in the gauntlet of my mail":Toll slowly."'Little hand and muckle gold' close shall lie within my hold,As the sword did, to prevail."XXXIIIOh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west —Toll slowly.Oh, and laughed the Duchess May, and her soul did put awayAll his boasting, for a jest.XXXIVIn her chamber did she sit, laughing low to think of it, —Toll slowly."Tower is strong and will is free: thou canst boast, my lord of Leigh,But thou boastest little wit."XXXVIn her tire-glass gazèd she, and she blushed right womanly —Toll slowly.She blushed half from her disdain, half her beauty was so plain,– "Oath for oath, my lord of Leigh!"XXXVIStraight she called her maidens in – "Since ye gave me blame herein" —Toll slowly—"That a bridal such as mine should lack gauds to make it fine,Come and shrive me from that sin.XXXVII"It is three months gone to-day since I gave mine hand away":Toll slowly."Bring the gold and bring the gem, we will keep bride-state in them,While we keep the foe at bay.XXXVIII"On your arms I loose mine hair; comb it smooth and crown it fair":Toll slowly."I would look in purple pall from this lattice down the wall,And throw scorn to one that's there!"XXXIXOh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west —Toll slowly.On the tower the castle's lord leant in silence on his sword,With an anguish in his breast.XLWith a spirit-laden weight did he lean down passionate:Toll slowly.They have almost sapped the wall, – they will enter therewithalWith no knocking at the gate.XLIThen the sword he leant upon, shivered, snapped upon the stone —Toll slowly."Sword," he thought, with inward laugh, "ill thou servest for a staffWhen thy nobler use is done!XLII"Sword, thy nobler use is done! tower is lost, and shame begun!" —Toll slowly."If we met them in the breach, hilt to hilt or speech to speech,We should die there, each for one.XLIII"If we met them at the wall, we should singly, vainly fall" —Toll slowly."But if I die here alone, – then I die who am but one,And die nobly for them all.XLIV"Five true friends lie for my sake in the moat and in the brake" —Toll slowly."Thirteen warriors lie at rest with a black wound in the breast,And not one of these will wake.XLV"So, no more of this shall be! heart-blood weighs too heavily" —Toll slowly."And I could not sleep in grave, with the faithful and the braveHeaped around and over me.XLVI"Since young Clare a mother hath, and young Ralph a plighted faith" —Toll slowly."Since my pale young sister's cheeks blush like rose when Ronald speaks,Albeit never a word she saith —XLVII"These shall never die for me: life-blood falls too heavily":Toll slowly."And if I die here apart, o'er my dead and silent heartThey shall pass out safe and free.XLVIII"When the foe hath heard it said – 'Death holds Guy of Linteged'" —Toll slowly."That new corse new peace shall bring, and a blessèd, blessèd thingShall the stone be at its head.XLIX"Then my friends shall pass out free, and shall bear my memory" —Toll slowly."Then my foes shall sleek their pride, soothing fair my widowed brideWhose sole sin was love of me:L"With their words all smooth and sweet, they will front her and entreat" —Toll slowly."And their purple pall will spread underneath her fainting headWhile her tears drop over it.LI"She will weep her woman's tears, she will pray her woman's prayers" —Toll slowly."But her heart is young in pain, and her hopes will spring againBy the suntime of her years.LII"Ah, sweet May! ah, sweetest grief! – once I vowed thee my belief" —Toll slowly—"That thy name expressed thy sweetness, – May of poets, in completeness!Now my May-day seemeth brief."LIIIAll these silent thoughts did swim o'er his eyes grown strange and dim —Toll slowly.Till his true men, in the place, wished they stood there face to faceWith the foe instead of him.LIV"One last oath, my friends that wear faithful hearts to do and dare!"Toll slowly."Tower must fall and bride be lost – swear me service worth the cost!"Bold they stood around to swear.LV"Each man clasp my hand and swear by the deed we failed in there" —Toll slowly."Not for vengeance, not for right, will ye strike one blow to-night!"Pale they stood around to swear.LVI"One last boon, young Ralph and Clare! faithful hearts to do and dare!"Toll slowly."Bring that steed up from his stall, which she kissed before you all.Guide him up the turret-stair.LVII"Ye shall harness him aright, and lead upward to this height:"Toll slowly."Once in love and twice in war hath he borne me strong and far:He shall bear me far to-night."LVIIIThen his men looked to and fro, when they heard him speaking so —Toll slowly."'Las! the noble heart," they thought, "he in sooth is grief-distraught:Would we stood here with the foe!"LIXBut a fire flashed from his eye, 'twixt their thought and their reply —Toll slowly."Have ye so much time to waste? We who ride here, must ride fastAs we wish our foes to fly."LXThey have fetched the steed with care, in the harness he did wear —Toll slowly.Past the court and through the doors, across the rushes of the floors,But they goad him up the stair.LXIThen from out her bower chambère did the Duchess May repair:Toll slowly."Tell me now what is your need," said the lady, "of this steed,That ye goad him up the stair?"LXIICalm she stood; unbodkined through, fell her dark hair to her shoe:Toll slowly.And the smile upon her face, ere she left the tiring-glass,Had not time enough to go.LXIII"Get thee back, sweet Duchess May! hope is gone like yesterday":Toll slowly.One half-hour completes the breach; and thy lord grows wild of speech —Get thee in, sweet lady, and pray!LXIV"In the east tower, high'st of all, loud he cries for steed from stall":Toll slowly."'He would ride as far,' quoth he, 'as for love and victory,Though he rides the castle-wall.'LXV"And we fetch the steed from stall, up where never a hoof did fall" —Toll slowly."Wifely prayer meets deathly need: may the sweet Heavens hear thee pleadIf he rides the castle-wall!"LXVILow she dropt her head, and lower, till her hair coiled on the floor —Toll slowly.And tear after tear you heard fall distinct as any wordWhich you might be listening for.LXVII"Get thee in, thou soft ladye! here is never a place for thee!"Toll slowly."Braid thine hair and clasp thy gown, that thy beauty in its moanMay find grace with Leigh of Leigh."LXVIIIShe stood up in bitter case, with a pale yet steady face:Toll slowly.Like a statue thunderstruck, which, though quivering, seems to lookRight against the thunder-place.LXIXAnd her foot trod in, with pride, her own tears i' the stone beside —Toll slowly."Go to, faithful friends, go to! judge no more what ladies do,No, nor how their lords may ride!"LXXThen the good steed's rein she took, and his neck did kiss and stroke:Toll slowly.Soft he neighed to answer her, and then followed up the stairFor the love of her sweet look:LXXIOh, and steeply, steeply wound up the narrow stair around —Toll slowly.Oh, and closely, closely speeding, step by step beside her treadingDid he follow, meek as hound.LXXIIOn the east tower, high'st of all, – there, where never a hoof did fall —Toll slowly.Out they swept, a vision steady, noble steed and lovely lady,Calm as if in bower or stall.LXXIIIDown she knelt at her lord's knee, and she looked up silently —Toll slowly.And he kissed her twice and thrice, for that look within her eyesWhich he could not bear to see.LXXIVQuoth he, "Get thee from this strife, and the sweet saints bless thy life!"Toll slowly."In this hour I stand in need of my noble red-roan steed,But no more of my noble wife."LXXVQuoth she, "Meekly have I done all thy biddings under sun":Toll slowly."But by all my womanhood, which is proved so, true and good,I will never do this one.LXXVI"Now by womanhood's degree and by wifehood's verity" —Toll slowly."In this hour if thou hast need of thy noble red-roan steed,Thou hast also need of me.LXXVII"By this golden ring ye see on this lifted hand pardiè" —Toll slowly."If, this hour, on castle-wall can be room for steed from stall,Shall be also room for me.LXXVIII"So the sweet saints with me be," (did she utter solemnly) —Toll slowly."If a man, this eventide, on this castle wall will ride,He shall ride the same with me."LXXIXOh, he sprang up in the selle and he laughed out bitter-well —Toll slowly."Wouldst thou ride among the leaves, as we used on other eves,To hear chime a vesper-bell?"LXXXShe clung closer to his knee – "Ay, beneath the cypress-tree!"Toll slowly."Mock me not, for otherwhere than along the greenwood fairHave I ridden fast with thee.LXXXI"Fast I rode with new-made vows from my angry kinsman's house":Toll slowly."What, and would you men should reck that I dared more for love's sakeAs a bride than as a spouse?LXXXII"What, and would you it should fall, as a proverb, before all" —Toll slowly."That a bride may keep your side while through castle-gate you ride,Yet eschew the castle-wall?"LXXXIIIHo! the breach yawns into ruin and roars up against her suing —Toll slowly.With the inarticulate din and the dreadful falling in —Shrieks of doing and undoing!LXXXIVTwice he wrung her hands in twain, but the small hands closed again.Toll slowly.Back he reined the steed – back, back! but she trailed along his trackWith a frantic clasp and strain.LXXXVEvermore the foemen pour through the crash of window and door —Toll slowly.And the shouts of Leigh and Leigh, and the shrieks of "kill!" and "flee!"Strike up clear amid the roar.LXXXVIThrice he wrung her hands in twain, but they closed and clung again —Toll slowly.While she clung, as one, withstood, clasps a Christ upon the rood,In a spasm of deathly pain.LXXXVIIShe clung wild and she clung mute with her shuddering lips half-shut.Toll slowly.Her head fallen as half in swound, hair and knee swept on the ground,She clung wild to stirrup and foot.LXXXVIIIBack he reined his steed back-thrown on the slippery coping-stone:Toll slowly.Back the iron hoofs did grind on the battlement behindWhence a hundred feet went down:LXXXIXAnd his heel did press and goad on the quivering flank bestrode —Toll slowly."Friends and brothers, save my wife! Pardon, sweet, in change for life, —But I ride alone to God."XCStraight as if the Holy name had upbreathed her like a flame —Toll slowly.She upsprang, she rose upright, in his selle she sate in sight,By her love she overcame.XCIAnd her head was on his breast where she smiled as one at rest —Toll slowly."Ring," she cried, "O vesper-bell in the beechwood's old chapelle —But the passing-bell rings best!"XCIIThey have caught out at the rein which Sir Guy threw loose – in vain —Toll slowly.For the horse in stark despair, with his front hoofs poised in air,On the last verge rears amain.XCIIINow he hangs, he rocks between, and his nostrils curdle in —Toll slowly.Now he shivers head and hoof and the flakes of foam fall off,And his face grows fierce and thin:XCIVAnd a look of human woe from his staring eyes did go:Toll slowly.And a sharp cry uttered he, in a foretold agonyOf the headlong death below, —XCVAnd, "Ring, ring, thou passing-bell," still she cried, "i' the old chapelle!"Toll slowly.Then, back-toppling, crashing back – a dead weight flung out to wrack,Horse and riders overfell.Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west —Toll slowly.And I read this ancient Rhyme, in the churchyard, while the chimeSlowly tolled for one at rest.IIThe abeles moved in the sun, and the river smooth did run —Toll slowly.And the ancient Rhyme rang strange, with its passion and its change,Here, where all done lay undone.IIIAnd beneath a willow tree I a little grave did see —Toll slowly—Where was graved – Here, undefiled, lieth Maud, a three-year child,Eighteen hundred forty-three.IVThen O spirits, did I say, ye who rode so fast that day —Toll slowly.Did star-wheels and angel wings with their holy winnowingsKeep beside you all the way?VThough in passion ye would dash, with a blind and heavy crash —Toll slowly—Up against the thick-bossed shield of God's judgment in the field, —Though your heart and brain were rash, —VINow, your will is all unwilled; now, your pulses are all stilled:Toll slowly.Now, ye lie as meek and mild (whereso laid) as Maud the childWhose small grave was lately filled.VIIBeating heart and burning brow, ye are very patient now —Toll slowly.And the children might be bold to pluck the kingcups from your mouldEre a month had let them grow.VIIIAnd you let the goldfinch sing in the alder near in spring —Toll slowly.Let her build her nest and sit all the three weeks out on it,Murmuring not at anything.IXIn your patience ye are strong, cold and heat ye take not wrong —Toll slowly.When the trumpet of the angel blows eternity's evangel,Time will seem to you not long.XOh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west —Toll slowly.And I said in underbreath, – All our life is mixed with death,And who knoweth which is best?XIOh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west —Toll slowly.And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness, —Round our restlessness, His rest.

THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST

So the dreams depart,So the fading phantoms flee,And the sharp realityNow must act its part.Westwood's Beads from a RosaryILittle Ellie sits alone'Mid the beeches of a meadow,By a stream-side on the grass,And the trees are showering downDoubles of their leaves in shadowOn her shining hair and face.IIShe has thrown her bonnet by,And her feet she has been dippingIn the shallow water's flow:Now she holds them nakedlyIn her hands, all sleek and dripping,While she rocketh to and fro.IIILittle Ellie sits alone,And the smile she softly usesFills the silence like a speechWhile she thinks what shall be done,And the sweetest pleasure choosesFor her future within reach.IVLittle Ellie in her smileChooses – "I will have a loverRiding on a steed of steeds:He shall love me without guile,And to him I will discoverThe swan's nest among the reeds.V"And the steed shall be red-roan,And the lover shall be noble,With an eye that takes the breath:And the lute he plays uponShall strike ladies into trouble,As his sword strikes men to death.VI"And the steed it shall be shodAll in silver, housed in azure,And the mane shall swim the wind;And the hoofs along the sodShall flash onward and keep measure,Till the shepherds look behind.VII"But my lover will not prizeAll the glory that he rides in,When he gazes in my face:He will say, 'O Love, thine eyesBuild the shrine my soul abides in,And I kneel here for thy grace!'VIII"Then, ay, then he shall kneel low,With the red-roan steed anear himWhich shall seem to understand,Till I answer, 'Rise and go!For the world must love and fear himWhom I gift with heart and hand.'IX"Then he will arise so pale,I shall feel my own lips trembleWith a yes I must not say,Nathless maiden-brave, 'Farewell,'I will utter, and dissemble —'Light to-morrow with to-day!'X"Then he'll ride among the hillsTo the wide world past the river,There to put away all wrong;To make straight distorted wills,And to empty the broad quiverWhich the wicked bear along.XI"Three times shall a young foot-pageSwim the stream and climb the mountainAnd kneel down beside my feet —'Lo, my master sends this gage,Lady, for thy pity's counting!What wilt thou exchange for it?'XII"And the first time I will sendA white rosebud for a guerdon,And the second time, a glove;But the third time – I may bendFrom my pride, and answer – 'PardonIf he comes to take my love.'XIII"Then the young foot-page will run,Then my lover will ride faster,Till he kneeleth at my knee:'I am a duke's eldest son,Thousand serfs do call me master,But, O Love, I love but thee!'XIV"He will kiss me on the mouthThen, and lead me as a loverThrough the crowds that praise his deeds;And, when soul-tied by one troth,Unto him I will discoverThat swan's nest among the reeds."XVLittle Ellie, with her smileNot yet ended, rose up gaily,Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe,And went homeward, round a mile,Just to see, as she did daily,What more eggs were with the two.XVIPushing through the elm-tree copse,Winding up the stream, light-hearted,Where the osier pathway leads,Past the boughs she stoops – and stops.Lo, the wild swan had deserted,And a rat had gnawed the reeds!XVIIEllie went home sad and slow.If she found the lover ever,With his red-roan steed of steeds,Sooth I know not; but I knowShe could never show him – never,That swan's nest among the reeds!

BERTHA IN THE LANE

IPut the broidery-frame away,For my sewing is all done:The last thread is used to-day,And I need not join it on.Though the clock stands at the noonI am weary. I have sewn,Sweet, for thee, a wedding-gown.IISister, help me to the bed,And stand near me, Dearest-sweet.Do not shrink nor be afraid,Blushing with a sudden heat!No one standeth in the street? —By God's love I go to meet,Love I thee with love complete.IIILean thy face down; drop it inThese two hands, that I may hold'Twixt their palms thy cheek and chin,Stroking back the curls of gold:'T is a fair, fair face, in sooth —Larger eyes and redder mouthThan mine were in my first youth.IVThou art younger by seven years —Ah! – so bashful at my gaze,That the lashes, hung with tears,Grow too heavy to upraise?I would wound thee by no touchWhich thy shyness feels as such.Dost thou mind me, Dear, so much?VHave I not been nigh a motherTo thy sweetness – tell me, Dear?Have we not loved one anotherTenderly, from year to year,Since our dying mother mildSaid with accents undefiled,"Child, be mother to this child"!VIMother, mother, up in heaven,Stand up on the jasper sea,And be witness I have givenAll the gifts required of me, —Hope that blessed me, bliss that crowned,Love that left me with a wound,Life itself that turneth round!VIIThou art standing in the room,In a molten glory shrinedThat rays off into the gloom!But thy smile is bright and bleakLike cold waves – I cannot speak,I sob in it, and grow weak.VIIIGhostly mother, keep aloofOne hour longer from my soul,For I still am thinking ofEarth's warm-beating joy and dole!On my finger is a ringWhich I still see glitteringWhen the night hides everything.IXLittle sister, thou art pale!Ah, I have a wandering brain —But I lose that fever-bale,And my thoughts grow calm again.Lean down closer – closer still!I have words thine ear to fill,And would kiss thee at my will.XDear, I heard thee in the spring,Thee and Robert – through the trees, —When we all went gatheringBoughs of May-bloom for the bees.Do not start so! think insteadHow the sunshine overheadSeemed to trickle through the shade.XIWhat a day it was, that day!Hills and vales did openlySeem to heave and throb awayAt the sight of the great sky:And the silence, as it stoodIn the glory's golden flood,Audibly did bud, and bud.XIIThrough the winding hedgerows green,How we wandered, I and you,With the bowery tops shut in,And the gates that showed the view!How we talked there; thrushes softSang our praises out, or oftBleatings took them from the croft:XIIITill the pleasure grown too strongLeft me muter evermore,And, the winding road being long,I walked out of sight, before,And so, wrapt in musings fond,Issued (past the wayside pond)On the meadow-lands beyond.XIVI sate down beneath the beechWhich leans over to the lane,And the far sound of your speechDid not promise any pain;And I blessed you full and free,With a smile stooped tenderlyO'er the May-flowers on my knee.XVBut the sound grew into wordAs the speakers drew more near —Sweet, forgive me that I heardWhat you wished me not to hear.Do not weep so, do not shake,Oh, – I heard thee, Bertha, makeGood true answers for my sake.XVIYes, and HE too! let him standIn thy thoughts, untouched by blame.Could he help it, if my handHe had claimed with hasty claim?That was wrong perhaps – but thenSuch things be – and will, again.Women cannot judge for men.XVIIHad he seen thee when he sworeHe would love but me alone?Thou wast absent, sent beforeTo our kin in Sidmouth town.When he saw thee who art bestPast compare, and loveliest.He but judged thee as the rest.XVIIICould we blame him with grave words,Thou and I, Dear, if we might?Thy brown eyes have looks like birdsFlying straightway to the light:Mine are older. – Hush! – look out —Up the street! Is none without?How the poplar swings about!XIXAnd that hour – beneath the beech,When I listened in a dream,And he said in his deep speechThat he owed me all esteem, —Each word swam in on my brainWith a dim, dilating pain,Till it burst with that last strain.XXI fell flooded with a dark,In the silence of a swoon.When I rose, still cold and stark,There was night; I saw the moonAnd the stars, each in its place,And the May-blooms on the grass,Seemed to wonder what I was.XXIAnd I walked as if apartFrom myself, when I could stand,And I pitied my own heart,As if I held it in my hand —Somewhat coldly, with a senseOf fulfilled benevolence,And a "Poor thing" negligence.XXIIAnd I answered coldly too,When you met me at the door;And I only heard the dewDripping from me to the floor:And the flowers, I bade you see,Were too withered for the bee, —As my life, henceforth, for me.XXIIIDo not weep so – Dear, – heart-warm!All was best as it befell.If I say he did me harm,I speak wild, – I am not well.All his words were kind and good —He esteemed me. Only, bloodRuns so faint in womanhood!XXIVThen I always was too grave, —Liked the saddest ballad sung, —With that look, besides, we haveIn our faces, who die young.I had died, Dear, all the same;Life's long, joyous, jostling gameIs too loud for my meek shame.XXVWe are so unlike each other,Thou and I, that none could guessWe were children of one mother,But for mutual tenderness.Thou art rose-lined from the cold,And meant verily to holdLife's pure pleasures manifold.XXVII am pale as crocus growsClose beside a rose-tree's root;Whosoe'er would reach the rose,Treads the crocus underfoot.I, like May-bloom on thorn-tree,Thou, like merry summer-bee, —Fit that I be plucked for thee!XXVIIYet who plucks me? – no one mourns,I have lived my season out,And now die of my own thornsWhich I could not live without.Sweet, be merry! How the lightComes and goes! If it be night,Keep the candles in my sight.XXVIIIAre there footsteps at the door?Look out quickly. Yea, or nay?Some one might be waiting forSome last word that I might say.Nay? So best! – so angels wouldStand off clear from deathly road,Not to cross the sight of God.XXIXColder grow my hands and feet.When I wear the shroud I made,Let the folds lie straight and neat,And the rosemary be spread,That if any friend should come,(To see thee, Sweet!) all the roomMay be lifted out of gloom.XXXAnd, dear Bertha, let me keepOn my hand this little ring,Which at nights, when others sleep,I can still see glittering!Let me wear it out of sight,In the grave, – where it will lightAll the dark up, day and night.XXXIOn that grave drop not a tear!Else, though fathom-deep the place,Through the woollen shroud I wearI shall feel it on my face.Rather smile there, blessèd one,Thinking of me in the sun,Or forget me – smiling on!XXXIIArt thou near me? nearer! so —Kiss me close upon the eyes,That the earthly light may goSweetly, as it used to riseWhen I watched the morning-greyStrike, betwixt the hills, the wayHe was sure to come that day.XXXIIISo, – no more vain words be said!The hosannas nearer roll.Mother, smile now on thy Dead,I am death-strong in my soul.Mystic Dove alit on cross,Guide the poor bird of the snowsThrough the snow-wind above loss!XXXIVJesus, Victim, comprehendingLove's divine self-abnegation,Cleanse my love in its self-spending,And absorb the poor libation!Wind my thread of life up higher,Up, through angels' hands of fire!I aspire while I expire.