. Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . ck within, the silver knellOf twelve sweet hours that past in bridal white,And died to live, long as my pulses play ;But now by this my love has closed her sightAnd given false death her hand, and stoln awayTo dreamful wastes where footless fancies dwellAmong the fragments of the golden nothing there her maiden grace affright!Dear heart, I feel with thee the drowsy bride to be, my evermore own hearts heart, my ownest own, farewell ;It is but for a little space I go :And ye meanwhile far over moor and fellBeat to the noiseles


. Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . ck within, the silver knellOf twelve sweet hours that past in bridal white,And died to live, long as my pulses play ;But now by this my love has closed her sightAnd given false death her hand, and stoln awayTo dreamful wastes where footless fancies dwellAmong the fragments of the golden nothing there her maiden grace affright!Dear heart, I feel with thee the drowsy bride to be, my evermore own hearts heart, my ownest own, farewell ;It is but for a little space I go :And ye meanwhile far over moor and fellBeat to the noiseless music of the night!Has our whole earth gone nearer to the glowOf your soft splendours that you look so bright?/have climbd nearer out of lonely , happy stars, timing with things below,Beat with my heart more blest than heart can , but for some dark undercurrent woeThat seems to draw— but it shall not be so :Let all be well, be well. 4S Maud: XIX. Her brother is coming back to-nigbt,Breaking up my dream of her brother is coming back to-night. II. My dream ? do I dream of bliss ?I have walkd awake with when did a morning shineSo rich in atonement as thisFor my dark-dawning jouth,Darkend watching a mother decline A j\fonodraina. 49 Atid that dead man at her heart and mine :For who was left to watch her but I ?Yet so did I let my freshness die. HI. I trust that I did not talk To gentle Maud in our walk (For often in lonely wanderings I have cursed him even to lifeless things) But I trust that I did not talk, Not touch on her fathers sin : I am sure I did but speak Of my mothers faded cheek When it slowly grew so thin, That I felt she was slowly dying Vext with lawyers and harassd with debt: For how often I caught her with eyes all wet, Shaking her head at her son and sighing A world of trouble within ! And Maud too, Maud was moved To speak of the mother she loved As one scarce less forlorn, Dying abroad and it seems apart From him who had ce


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