. Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . ,As long as my life enduresI feel I shall owe you a debt. 52 Maud; That I never can hope to pay;And if ever I should forgetThat I owe this debt to youAnd for your sweet sake to yours ;O then, what then shall I say ? —If ever I should forget,May God make me more wretchedThan ever I have been yet ! So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate, I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight, That I shoiild grow light-headed, I fear. Fantastically merry; But that her brother comes, like a blight On my fresh hope, to the Hall to-night.
. Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . ,As long as my life enduresI feel I shall owe you a debt. 52 Maud; That I never can hope to pay;And if ever I should forgetThat I owe this debt to youAnd for your sweet sake to yours ;O then, what then shall I say ? —If ever I should forget,May God make me more wretchedThan ever I have been yet ! So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate, I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight, That I shoiild grow light-headed, I fear. Fantastically merry; But that her brother comes, like a blight On my fresh hope, to the Hall to-night. yi JMouodraina. 53 XX. Strange, that I felt so gay,Strange, that /tried to-dayTo beguile her melan-choly ;The Sultan, as we name him,—She did not wish to blanu him —But he vext her and per- plext herWith his worldly talk and folly :Was it gentle to reprove herFor stealing out of viewFrom a little lazy leverWho but claims her as his due ?Or for chilling his caressesBy the coldness of her , the plainness of her dresses ?. the sultan, as we name him. 54 Maud; Now I know her but in two,Nor can pronounce upon itIf one should ask me whetherThe habit, hat, and feather,Or the frock and gipsy bonnetBe the neater and completer ;For nothing can be sweeterThan maiden Maud in either. But to-morrow, if we live,Our ponderous squire will giveA grand political dinnerTo half the squirelings near ;And Maud will wear her jewels,And the bird of prey will the titmouse hope to win herWith his chirrup at her ear. A grand political dinner To the men of many acres, A gathering of the Tory, A dinner and then a dance For the maids and marriage-makers, And every eye but mine will glance At Maud in all her glory. For I am not invited. But, with the Sultans pardon, A Monodrania. 55 I am as well delighced,For I know her own rose-garden,And mean to linger in itTill the dancing will be over ;And then, oh then, come out to meFor a minute, but for a minute,Come out to your own true lov
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