0, I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath | O, had he whispered, when his sweetest kiss not set ;

Was warm upon my mouth in fancied bliss, Ancient founts of inspiration well through all my He had kissed another woman even as this, fancy yet.

It were less bitter! Sometimes I could weep Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to To be thus cheated, like a child asleep ; Locksley Hall !

Were not my anguish far too dry and deep. Now for me the woods may wither, now for me the roof-tree fall.

So I built my house upon another's ground ;

Mocked with a heart just caught at the rebound, Comes a vapor from the margin, blackening over A cankered thing that looked so firm and sound.

heath and holt, Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a

And when that heart grew colder, - colder still, thunderbolt.

I, ignorant, tried all duties to fulfil,

Blaming my foolish pain, exacting will, Let it fall on Locksley Hall, with rain or hail, or fire or snow;

All, - anything but him. It was to be For the mighty wind arises, roaring seaward, and The full draught others drink up careless

Was made this bitter Tantalus-cup for me.

I go.


I say again, — he gives me all I claimed,

I and my children never shall be shamed :

He is a just man, — he will live unblamed. "She loves with love that cannot tire:

Only - O God, O God, to cry for bread,
And if, ah, woe ! she loves alone,

And get a stone! Daily to lay my head
Through passionate duty love flames higher,

Upon a bosom where the old love's dead !
As grass grows taller round a stone."

Dead ?— Fool! It never lived. It only stirred So, the truth 's out. I'll grasp it like a snake,

Galvanic, like an hour-cold corpse. None heard : It will not slay me. My heart shall not break

So let me bury it without a word. Awhile, if only for the children's sake.

He 'll keep that other woman from my sight. For his, too, somewhat. Let him stand unblamed; I know not if her face be foul or bright; None say, he gave me less than honor claimed,

I only know that it was his delight Except one trifle scarcely worth being named

As his was mine ; I only know he stands The heart. That's gone. The corrupt dead might Pale, at the touch of their long-severed hands, be

Then to a flickering smile his lips commands, As easily raised up, breathing,

-fair to see, As he could bring his whole heart back to me. Lest I should grieve, or jealous anger show.

He need not. When the ship's gone down, I trow, I never sought him in coquettish sport,

We little reck whatever wind may blow.
Or courted him as silly maidens court,
And wonder when the longed-for prize falls short. And so my silent moan begins and ends,

No world's laugh or world's taunt, no pity of I only loved him, - any woman would :

friends But shut my love up till he came and sued,

Or sneer of foes, with this my torment blends. Then poured it o'er his dry life like a flood.

None knows, - - none heeds. I have a little pride; I was so happy I could make him blest !

Enough to stand up, wifelike, by his side, So happy that I was his first and best,

With the same smile as when I was his bride. As he mine, - when he took me to his breast.

And I shall take his children to my arms; Ah me ! if only then he had been true !

They will not miss these fading, worthless charms; If for one little year, a month or two,

Their kiss - ah! unlike his — all pain disarms. He had given me love for love, as was my due !

And haply as the solemn years go by, Or had he told me, ere the deed was done, He will think sometimes, with regretful sigh, He only raised me to his heart's dear throne

The other woman was less true than I. Poor substitute — because the queen was gone!


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Sitting by my side,

At my feet,
So he breathed the air I breathed,

Satisfied !
I, too, at love's brim

Touched the sweet.
I would die if death bequeathed

Sweet to him.


“Speak, - I love thee best !"

He exclaimed, “Let thy love my own foretell."

I confessed : “Clasp my heart on thine

Now unblamed, Since upon thy soul as well

Hangeth mine!"

Was it wrong to own,

Being truth?
Why should all the giving prove

His alone ?
I had wealth and ease,

Beauty, youth,
Since my lover gave me love,

I gave these.
That was all I meant,

- To be just, And the passion I had raised

To content.

But Enoch yearned to see her face again ; “If I might look on her sweet face again And know that she is happy." So the thouacht Haunted and harassed him, and drove him so: .. At evening when the dull November day Was growing duller twilight, to the hill. There he sat down gazing on all below : There did a thousand memories roll upon him, Unspeakable for sadness. By and by The ruddy square of comfortable light, Får-blazing from the rear of Philip's house, Allured him, as the beacon-blaze allures The bird of passage, till he madly strikes Against it, and beats out his weary life.

For Philip's dwelling fronted on the street, The latest house to landward ; but behind, With one small gate that opened on the waste, Flourished a little garden square and walled : And in it throve an ancient evergreen, A yewtree, and all round it ran a walk Of shingle, and a walk divided it : But Enoch shunned the middle walk and stolo Up by the wall, behind the yew; and thence That which he better might have shunned, if

griefs Like his have worse or better, Enoch saw.

New hope may bloom,

And days may come, Of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing half so sweet in life

As love's young dream ! O, there's nothing half so sweet in life

As love's young drcam !

For cups and silver on the burnished board Sparkled and shone ; so genial was the hearth ; And on the right hand of the hearth he saw Philip, the slighted suitor of old times, Stout, rosy, with his babe across his knees; And o'er her second father stuopt a girl, A later but a loftier Annie Lee, Fair-haired and tall, and from her lifted hand Dangled a length of ribbon and a ring To tempt the babe, who reared his creasy arms, Caught at and ever missed it, and they laughed : And on the left hand of the hearth he saw The mother glancing often toward her babe, But turning now and then to speak with him, Her son, who stood beside her tall and strong, And saying that which pleased him, for he smiled.

Though the bard to purer fame may soar,

When wild youth 's past ;
Though he win the wise, who frowned before,

To smile at last ;
He'll never meet

A joy so sweet
In all his noon of fame
As when first he sung to woman's ear

His soul-felt flame,
And at every close she bli ned to hear

The one loved name!

Now when the dead man come to life beheld His wife his wife no more, and saw the babe Hers, yet not his, upon the father's knee, And all the warmth, the peace, the happiness, And his own children tall and beautiful, And him, that other, reigning in his place, Lord of his rights and of his children's love, — Then he, though Miriam Lane had told him all, Because things seen are mightierthan things heard, Staggered and shook, holding the branch, and

feared To send abroad a shrill and terrible cry, Which in one moment, like the blast of doom, Would shatter all the happiness of the hearth.

0, that hallowed form is ne'er forgot,

Which first love traced ;
Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot
On mcmory's waste !

'T was odor fled

As soon as shed; 'T was morning's winged dream ; 'T was a light that ne'er can shine again

On life's dull stream ! 0, 't was a light that ne'cr can shine again On life's dull stream !

THOMAS MOORE ("Irish Melodies ")


He therefore turning softly like a thief, Lest the harsh shingle should grate underfoot, And feeling all along the garden-wall, Lest he should swoon and tumble and be found, Crept to the gate, and opened it, and closed, As lightly as a sick man's chamber-door, Behind him, and came out upon the waste.

When the lamp is shattered
The light in the dust lics dead ;
When the cloud is scattered,
The rainbow's glory is shed.
When the lute is broken,
Sweet tones are remembered not ;
When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon forgot.

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And as abroad we walked,

As lovers' fashion is, Oft as we sweetly talked,

The sun would steal a kiss; The wind upon her lips

Likewisc most sweetly blew, But now, alas ! sh' 'as left me,

Falero, lero, loo.

'Twas I that beat the bush,

The birds to others flew, For she, alas ! hath left me,

Falero, lero, loo.

Her cheeks were like the cherry,

Her skin as white as snow, When she was blithe and merry,

She angel-like did show ; Her waist exceeding small,

The fives did fit her shoe, But now, alas ! sh' 'as left me,

Falero, lero, loo.

If ever that Dame Nature,

For this false lover's sake, Another pleasing creature

Like unto her would make; Let her remember this,

To make the other true,
For this, alas ! hath left me,

Falero, lero, loo.
No riches now can raise me,

No want makes me despair, No misery amaze ine,

Nor yet for want I care ; I have lost a world itself,

My carthly heaven, adieu ! Since she, alas ! liath left me,

Falero, lero, loo.


In summer time or winter,

She had her heart's desire ; I still did scorn to stint her,

From sugar, sack, or fire ; The world went round about,

No cares we ever knew, But now, alas ! sh' 'as left me,

Falero, lero, loo.


As we walked home together

At midnight through the town, To keep away the weather,

O'er her I'd cast my gown ; No cold my love should feel,

Whate'er the heavens could do, But now, alas ! sh' 'as left me,

Falero, lero, loo.

Why so pale and wan, fond lover ?

Pr'y thec, why so pale ? --Will, when looking well can't move her,

Looking ill prevail ?

Pr'y thec, why so pale ?
Why so dull and mute, young sinner ?

Pr'y thee, why so mute ?
Will, when speaking well can't win her,

Saying nothing do 't ?

Pr'y thee, why so mute ?
Quit, quit, for shame! this will not move,

This cannot take her:
If of herself she will not love,

Nothing can make her:
The devil take her!


Like doves we would be billing,

And clip and kiss so fast, Yet she would be unwilling

That I should kiss the last ; They 're Judas kisses now,

Since that they proved untrue ; For now, alas ! sh' 'as left me,

Falero, lero, loo.

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