But he thought of his sisters proud and cold, So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, 50 And Maud was left in the field alone. But the lawyers smiled that afternoon, And the young girl mused beside the well 65 He wedded a wife of richest dower, Who lived for fashion, as he for power. Yet oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow, And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes 70 Looked out in their innocent surprise. Oft, when the wine in his glass was red, And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms 75 And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain, "Ah, that I were free again! "Free as when I rode that day, Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay." She wedded a man unlearned and poor, 80 And many children played round her door. But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, And oft, when the summer sun shore hot 85 And she heard the little spring brook fall Over the roadside, through the wall, In the shade of the apple-tree again And, gazing down with timid grace, Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls The weary wheel to a spinnet turned, 95 And for him who sat by the chimney lug, Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug, A manly form at her side she saw, Then she took up her burden of life again, 100 Saying only, "It might have been." Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, God pity them both! and pity us all, 105 For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: "It might have been!" Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies And, in the hereafter, angels may 110 Roll the stone from its grave away! 166. The exigencies of rhyme have a heavy burden to boar is this line. |