VL. But dreader sight could such be seen, His inward mind did lie, Whose long-subjected humanness Gave out its lion cry, And fiercely rent its tenement In a mortal agony. VII. I tell you, friends, had you heard his wail, "Twould haunt you in court and mart, And in merry feast, until you set Your cup down to depart That weeping wild of a reckless child VIII. O broken heart, O broken vow, Smote him therewith, i' the presence high A wailing human creature. IX. A human creature found too weak (May Heaven's dear grace have spoken peace To his dying heart and brain!) For when they came at dawn of day To lift the lady's corpse away, Her bier was holding twain. VOL. L-16 X. They dug beneath the kirkyard grass For both, one dwelling deep, To which, when years had mossed the stone, Sir Ronald brought his little son To watch the funeral heap. And when the happy boy would rather Turn upward his blithe eyes to see The wood-doves nodding from the tree- And hold it in thy constant ken The bond which is not loosed by any !— THE ROMAUNT OF MARGRET. Can my affections find out nothing best, But still and still remove? QUARLES. I. I PLANT a tree whose leaf The yew-tree leaf will suit. The sun may shine and we be cold— Unto my wild romaunt, II. Margret, Margret. Sitteth the fair ladye Close to the river side, Which runneth on with a merry tone Her merry thoughts to guide. It runneth through the trees, Nathless the lady's thoughts have found A way more pleasant still. Margret, Margret. III. The night is in her hair And giveth shade to shade, And the pale moonlight on her forehead white I ween, she thinketh of a voice, Albeit uttering none. Margret, Margret. IV. All little birds do sit With heads beneath their wings: Nature doth seem in a mystic dream, Absorbed from her living things. That dream by that ladye Is certes unpartook, For she looketh to the high cold stars With a tender human look. Margret, Margret, V. The lady's shadow lies Upon the running river. It lieth no less in its quietness, For that which resteth never. Most like a trusting heart Upon a passing faith, Or as, upon the course of life, The stedfast doom of death. Margret, Margret. VI. The lady doth not move, The lady doth not dream, Yet she seeth her shade no longer laid It parteth from the tide, It standeth upright in the cleft moonlight, Margret, Margret. VII. Look in its face, ladye, And keep thee from thy swound! And such will be thy face, ladye, Margret, Margret. VIII. 'Am I not like to thee?'. The voice was calm and low; And between each word you might have heard The silent forests grow. 'The like may sway the like,' By which mysterious law Mine eyes from thine and my lips from thine The light and breath may draw. Margret, Margret. |