Merged in completion? Would you learn at (full How passion rose thro' circumstantial (grades Beyond all grades develop'd? and indeed Holding the folded annals of my youth; And while I mused, Love with knit brows (went by, And with a flying finger swept my lips, The secret bridal chambers of the heart, Let in the day" Here, then, my words have (end. Yet might I tell of meetings, of farewellsOf that which came between, more sweet (than each, In whispers, like the whispers of the leaves That tremble round a nightingale-in sighs Which perfect Joy, perplex'd for utterance, Stole from her sister Sorrow. Might I not tell Of difference, reconcilement, pledges given, And vows, where there was never need of (vows, And kisses, where the heart on one wild leap Hung tranced from all pulsation, as above The heavens between their fairy fleeces pale Sow'd all their mystic gulfs with fleeting (stars; Or while the balmy glooming, crescent-lit, Spread the light haze along the river-shores, And in the hollows; or as once we met Unheedful, tho' beneath a whispering rain Night slid down one long stream of sighing (wind, And in her bosom bore the baby, Sleep. But this whole hour your eyes have been (intent On that veil'd picture — veil'd, for what it (holds May not be dwelt on by the common day. This prelude has prepared thee. Raise thy (soul: Make thine heart ready with thine eyes: the (time Is come to raise the veil. Behold her there, As I beheld her ere she knew my heart, My first, last love; the idol of my youth, The darling of my manhood, and, alas! Now the most blessed memory of mine age. DORA. WITH farmer Allan at the farm abode William and Dora. William was his son, And she his niece. He often look'd at them, And often thought, I'll make them man (and wife." Now Dora felt her uncle's will in all, He had been always with her in the house, For many years," But William answer'd (short: I cannot marry Dora; by my life, I will not marry Dora." Then the old man Was wroth, and doubled up his hands, and (said: You will not, boy! you dare to answer thus! But in my time a father's word was law, And so it shall be now for me. Look to it; Consider, William: take a month to think, And let me have an answer to my wish; Or, by the Lord that made me, you shall pack, And never more darken my doors again." But William answer'd madly; bit his lips, And broke away. The more he look'd at her The less he liked her; and his ways were (harsh; But Dora bore them meekly. Then before. The month was out he left his father's (house, And hired himself to work within the fields; And half in love, half spite, he woo'd and (wed A labourer's daughter, Mary Morrison, Then, when the bells were ringing, Allan (call'd His niece and said: My girl, I love you well; But if you speak with him that was my son, Or change a word with her he calls his wife, Whose child is that? What are you doing So Dora cast her eyes upon the ground, It cannot be: my uncle's mind will change!" Who sent it; till at last a fever seized Hard things of Dora. Dora came and said: So full a harvest: let me take the boy, Of the full harvest, he may see the boy, And Dora took the child, and went her way And spied her not; for none of all his men And the sun fell, and all the land was dark. The child once more, and sat upon the And made a litlle wreath of all the flowers "Do with me as you will, but take the child And Allan said, "I see it is a trick To slight it. Well-for I will take the boy; At Dora's feet. She bow'd upon her hands, Remembering the day when first she came, And wept in secret; and the reapers reap'd, And, now I think, he shall not have the boy, So the women kiss'd Each other, and set out, and reach'd the (farm. The door was off the latch: they peep'd, and (saw The boy set up betwixt his grandsire's knees, Who thrust him in the hollows of his arm, And clapt him on the hands and on the (cheeks, Like one that loved him: and the lad (stretch'd out And babbled for the golden seal, that hung FromAllan's watch,and sparkled by the fire. Then they came in: but when the boy beheld His mother, he cried out to come to her: And Allan set him down, and Mary said: O Father!-if you let me call you soI never came a-begging for myself, Or William, or this child; but now I come For Dora: take her back; she loves you well. O Sir, when William died, he died at peace With all men; for I ask'd him, and he said, He could not ever rue his marrying me I had been a patient wife: but, Sir, he said That he was wrong to cross his father thus: 'God bless him!' he said, 'and may he never (know The troubles I have gone thro'!' Then he (turn'd His face and pass'd — unhappy that I am! But now, Sir, let me have my boy, for you Will make him hard, and he will learn to (slight His father's memory; and take Dora back, And let all this be as it was before." So Mary said, and Dora hid her face By Mary. There was silence in the room; And all at once the old man burst in sobs:I have been to blame - to blame. I have (kill'd my son but I loved him I have kill'd him my (dear son. MayGod forgive me!-I have been to blame. Kiss me, my children." Then they clung about The old man's neck, and kiss'd him many (times. And all the man was broken with remorse; And all his love came back a hundred fold; And for three hours he sobb'd o'erWilliam's (child, Thinking of William. So those four abode Within one house together; and as years Went forward, Mary took another mate; But Dora lived unmarried till her death. AUDLEY COURT. THE Bull, the Fleece are cramm'd, and not (a room For love or money. Let us picnic there At Audley Court." I spoke, while Audley feast Humm'd like a hive all round the narrow (quay, To Francis, with a basket on his arm, Said Francis. Then we shoulder'd thro' the (swarm, And rounded by the stillness of the beach To where the bay runs up its latest horn. We left the dying ebb that faintly lipp'd The flat red granite; so by many a sweep Of meadow smooth from aftermath we (reach'd The griffin-guarded gates, and pass'd thro' all The pillar'd dusk of sounding sycamores, And cross'd the garden to the gardener's (lodge, With all its casements bedded, and its walls And chimneys muffled in the leafy vine. There, on a slope of orchard, Francis laid A damask napkin wrought with horse and (hound, Brought out a dusky loaf that smelt of home, (was This season; glancing thence, discuss'd the (farm, The fourfield system, and the price of grain; And struck upon the corn-laws, where we (split, And came again together on the king "Oh! who would fight and march and (countermarch, Be shot for sixpence in a battle-field, Perch'd like a crow upon a three-legg'd (stool, Till all his juice is dried, and all his joints Are full of chalk? but let me live my life. Who'd serve the state? for if I carved my (name Upon the cliffs that guard my native land, I might as well have traced it in the sands; The sea wastes all: but let me live my life. Oh! who would love? I woo'd a woman (once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind, And all my heart turn'd from her, as a thorn Turns from the sea; but let me live my life." He sang his song, and I replied with mine: I found it in a volume, all of songs, Knock'd down to me, when old Sir Robert's (pride, His books the more the pity, so I said Came to the hammer here in March and (this I set the words, and added names I knew. Sleep, breathing health and peace upon Sleep, breathing love and trust against her (lip: I go to-night: I come to-morrow morn. "I go, but I return: I would I were In crescent, dimly rain'd about the leaf There by the humpback'd willow; half (stands up And bristles, half has fall'n and made a (bridge; And there he caught the younker tickling (troutCaught in flagrante what's the Latin (word? Dilecto: but his house, for so they say, Was haunted with a jolly ghost, that shool The curtains, whined in lobbies, tapt a (doors, And rummaged like a rat: no servant stay'd The farmer vext pack sup his beds and chairs, And all his household stuff; and with his boy Betwixt his knees, his wife upon the tilt, Sets out, and meets a friend who hails him (What! You're flitting!" "Yes, we're flitting," says (the ghost (For they had pack'd the thing among the (beds,) Oh well," says he, you flitting with us (too Jack, turn the horses' heads and home (again." John. He left his wife behind; for so I heard. James. He left her, yes. I met my lady once: A woman like a butt, and harsh as crabs. John. Oh yet but I remember, ten years (back 'Tis now at least ten years and then she At first like dove and dove were cat and dog. New things and old, himself and her, she (sour'd To what she is: a nature never kind! Like men, like manners: like breeds like, (they say. Kind nature is the best: those manners next That fit us like a nature second-hand ; Which are indeed the manners of the great. John. But I had heard it was this bill that (past, And fear of change at home, that drove him (hence. James. That was the last drop in the cup I once was near him, when his bailiff brought A Chartist pike. You should have seen him (wince As from a venomous thing: he thought him(self A mark for all, and shudder'd, lest a cry Should break his sleep by night, and his (nice eyes Should see the raw mechanic's bloody (thumbs Sweat on his blazon'd chairs; but, sir, you (know That these two parties still divide the (world Of those that want, and those that have: (and still The same old sore breaks out from age to age With much the same result. Now I myself, A Tory to the quick, was as a boy Destructive, when I had not what I would. I was at school -- a college in the South: There lived a flayflint near; we stole his fruit, His hens, his eggs; but there was law for us; We paid in person. He had a sow, sir. She, With meditative grunts of much content, Lay great with pig, wallowing in sun and (mud By night we dragg'd her to the college tower From her warm bed, and up the corkscrew (stair With hand and rope we haled the groaning (sow, And on the leads we kept her till she pigg'd. Not they. who That we should mimic this raw fool the (world, Which charts us all in its coarse blacks or (whites, As ruthless as a baby with a worm, But put your best foot forward, or I fear That we shall miss the mail: and here it (comes With five at top: as quaint a four-in-hand As you shall see-three pyebalds and a roan. EDWIN MORRIS. OR, THE LAKE. O ME, my pleasant rambles by the lake, My one Oasis in the dust and drouth |