Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . enteringHe had cast the curtains of their seat aside —Black velvet of the costliest — she herselfHad seen to that: fain had she closed them dared not stir to do it, only neardHer husband inch by inch, but when she , her hand in one of his, he veildHis face with the other, and at once, as fallsA creeper when the prop is broken, fellThe woman shrieking at his feet, and her own people bore along the naveHer pendent hands, and narrow meagre faceSeamd with the shallow cares of fifty years :And her the Lord of all the landscape
Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . enteringHe had cast the curtains of their seat aside —Black velvet of the costliest — she herselfHad seen to that: fain had she closed them dared not stir to do it, only neardHer husband inch by inch, but when she , her hand in one of his, he veildHis face with the other, and at once, as fallsA creeper when the prop is broken, fellThe woman shrieking at his feet, and her own people bore along the naveHer pendent hands, and narrow meagre faceSeamd with the shallow cares of fifty years :And her the Lord of all the landscape roundEvn to its last horizon, and of allWho peerd at him so keenly, followd outTall and erect, but in the middle aisleReeld, as a footsore ox in crowded waysStumbling across the market to his death,Unpitied ; for he groped as blind, and seemedAlways about to fall, grasping the pews Aylmers Field. 273 And oaken finials till he touchd the door;Yet to the lychgate where his chariot stood,Strode from the porch, tall and erect But nevermore did either pass the gateSave under pall with bearers. In one month,Thro weary and yet ever wearier hours,The childless mother went to seek her child ;And when he felt the silence of his houseAbout him, and the chang and not the change,And those fixt eyes of painted ancestorsStaring for ever from their gilded wallsOn him their last descendant, his own headBegan to droop, to fall ; the man becameImbecile ; his one word was desolate ;Dead for two years before his death was he;But when the second Christmas came, escapedHis keepers, and the silence which he find a deeper in the narrow gloomBy wife and child ; nor wanted at his endThe dark retinue reverencing deathAt golden thresholds ; nor from tender hearts,And those who sorrowd oer a vanishd race,Pity, the violet on the tyrants the great Hall was wholly broken down. HIS ONE WORD WAS DESOLATE. 274 Aylmers Field. And the broad woodland parcelld into farms ;And where the
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Keywords: ., bookauthortennysonalfredtennyso, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890
