Excerpt: ...my crutch A cripple as I am," (For cramps had vexed her much, ) "Rather than this dear heart Lack one to take her part." For days, day after day, On my weary bed I lay, 226 Wishing the time would pass; O, so wishing that I was Likely to pass away: For the one friend whom I knew Was dead, I knew no other, Neither father nor mother; And I, what should I do? One day the sexton's wife Said: "Rouse yourself, my dear: My Lady has driven down From the Hall into the town, And we think she's coming here. Cheer up, for ...
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Excerpt: ...my crutch A cripple as I am," (For cramps had vexed her much, ) "Rather than this dear heart Lack one to take her part." For days, day after day, On my weary bed I lay, 226 Wishing the time would pass; O, so wishing that I was Likely to pass away: For the one friend whom I knew Was dead, I knew no other, Neither father nor mother; And I, what should I do? One day the sexton's wife Said: "Rouse yourself, my dear: My Lady has driven down From the Hall into the town, And we think she's coming here. Cheer up, for life is life." But I would not look or speak, Would not cheer up at all. My tears were like to fall, So I turned round to the wall And hid my hollow cheek, Making as if I slept, As silent as a stone, And no one knew I wept. What was my Lady to me, The grand lady from the Hall? She might come, or stay away, I was sick at heart that day: The whole world seemed to be Nothing, just nothing to me, For aught that I could see. 227 Yet I listened where I lay: A bustle came below, A clear voice said: "I know; I will see her first alone, It may be less of a shock If she's so weak to-day" -- A light hand turned the lock, A light step crossed the floor, One sat beside my bed: But never a word she said. For me, my shyness grew Each moment more and more: So I said never a word And neither looked nor stirred; I think she must have heard My heart go pit-a-pat: Thus I lay, my Lady sat, More than a mortal hour (I counted one and two By the house-clock while I lay): I seemed to have no power To think of a thing to say, Or do what I ought to do, Or rouse myself to a choice. At last she said: "Margaret, Won't you even look at me?" A something in her voice Forced my tears to fall at last, 228 Forced sobs from me thick and fast; Something not of the past, Yet stirring memory; A something new, and yet Not new, too sweet to last, Which I never can forget. I turned and stared at her: Her cheek showed hollow-pale; Her hair...
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Add this copy of Poems (Everyman's Pocket Poets) to cart. $20.00, new condition, Sold by HR1Books rated 5.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Hereford, HEREFORDSHIRE, UNITED KINGDOM, published 1993 by Everyman.
