DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. 1864, JAMES LEE'S WIFE. I-JAMES LEE'S WIFE SPEAKS AT THE WINDOW. I. Aн, Love, but a day And the world has changed! The sun's away, And the bird estranged; The wind has dropped, And the sky's deranged: Summer has stopped. II. Look in my eyes! Wilt thou change too? In the good and true, III. Thou art a man, But I am thy love. For the lake, its swan; For the dell, its dove; And for thee-(oh, haste!) Me, to bend above, Me, to hold embraced. II. BY THE FIRESIDE. I. Is all our fire of shipwreck wood, Oh, for the ills half-understood, The dim dead woe Long ago Befallen this bitter coast of France! Well, poor sailors took their chance; I take mine. II. A ruddy shaft our fire must shoot O'er the sea: Do sailors eye the casement—mute, Drenched and stark, From their bark And envy, gnash their teeth for hate O' the warm safe house and happy freight -Thee and me? III. God help you, sailors, at your need! For some ships, safe in port indeed, Rot and rust, Run to dust, All through worms i' the wood, which crept, Gnawed our hearts out while we slept : That is worse. IV. Who lived here before us two? Old-world pairs. Did a woman ever-would I knew! Watch the man With whom began Love's voyage full-sail,-(now, gnash your teeth!) When planks start, open hell beneath Unawares? |