Little Ellie sits alone,- And V. "And the steed shall be red roan, And the lover shall be noble, And the lute he plays upon, VI. All in silver, housed in azure, And the mane shall swim the And the hoofs, along the sod, Shall flash onward and keep measure, Till the shepherds look behind. VII. "But my lover will not prize All the glory that he rides in, When he gazes in my face. the sweetest pleasure Build the shrine my soul abides in; chooseth, For her future within reach. IV. Little Ellie in her smile Chooseth... "I will have a lover, Riding on a steed of steeds! He shall love me without guile; And to him I will discover That swan's nest among the reeds. And I kneel here for thy grace.' Lean down closer-closer still! I have words thine ear to fill, XIV. And would kiss thee at my will. I sate down beneath the beech X. Dear, I heard thee in the spring, Thee and Robert-through the trees, When we all went gathering Boughs of May-bloom for the bees. Do not start so! think instead Which leans over to the lane, And the far sound of your speech Did not promise any pain: And I blessed you full and free, With a smile stooped tenderly O'er the May-flowers on my knee. XV. But the sound grew into word near Seemed to trickle through the Sweet, forgive me that I heard shade. XI. What a day it was, that day! Hills and vales did openly Seem to heave and throb away, At the sight of the great sky: And the Silence, as it stood In the Glory's golden flood, Audibly did bud-and bud. XII. Through the winding hedgerows green, How we wandered, I and you,With the bowery tops shut in, And the gates that showed the view How we talked there! thrushes soft Sang our pauses out—or oft Bleatings took them from the croft. XIII. Till the pleasure, grown too strong, I walked out of sight, before, What you wished me not to hear. Do not weep so-do not shakeOh, I heard thee, Bertha,make Good true answers for my sake. XVI. Yes, and HE too! let him stand In thy thoughts, untouched by blame. Could he help it, if my hand He had claimed with hasty claim? That was wrong, perhaps-but Such things be and will, again! XVII. Had he seen thee, when he swore XVIII. Could we blame him with grave words, Thou and I, Dear, if we might? Thy brown eyes have looks like birds, Flying straightway to the light : |