Full of his bliss, and following her dark eyes Enwound us both; and over many a range Reveal'd their shining windows: from them clash'd Then, in that time and place, I spoke to her, A woman's heart, the heart of her I loved ; More musical than ever came in one, The silver fragments of a broken voice, Made me most happy, lisping "I am thine." Merged in completion? Would you learn at full I had not staid so long to tell you all, But while I mused came Memory with sad eyes, Holding the folded annals of my youth; And while I mused, Love with knit brows went by, And with a flying finger swept my lips, ' And spake,"Be wise: not easily forgiven Are those, who setting wide the doors, that bar The secret bridal chambers of the heart, Let in the day." Here, then, my words have end. Yet might I tell of meetings, of farewells— Of that which came between, more sweet than each, In whispers, like the whispers of the leaves That tremble round a nightingale-in sighs Stole from her sister Sorrow. Might I not tell And vows, where there was never need of vows, But this whole hour your eyes have been intent On that veil'd picture-veil'd, for what it holds May not be dwelt on by the common day. This prelude has prepared thee. Raise thy soul Make thine heart ready with thine eyes the time Is come to raise the veil. Behold her there, As I beheld her ere she knew my heart, And often thought "I'll make them man and wife.” Now Dora felt her uncle's will in all, And yearn'd towards William ; but the youth, because He had been always with her in the house, Thought not of Dora. Then there came a day When Allan call'd his son, and said, "My son ; I married late, but I would wish to see My grandchild on my knees before I die : And I have set my heart upon a match. |