OVE eastward, happy earth, and leave Yon orange sunset waning slow: From fringes of the faded eve, Till over thy dark shoulder glow To glass herself in dewy eyes Ah, bear me with thee, smoothly borne, And move me to my marriage-morn, And round again to happy night. JOME not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest: Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time, And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie: Go by, go by. air, I peer'd athwart the chancel pane And saw the altar cold and bare A clog of lead was round my feet, A band of pain across my brow; "Cold altar, Heaven and earth shall meet Before you hear my marriage vow." II. I turn'd and humm'd a bitter song That mock'd the wholesome human heart, And then we met in wrath and wrong, We met, but only meant to part. Full cold my greeting was and dry; She faintly smiled, she hardly moved; I saw with half-unconscious eye She wore the colours I approved. III. She took the little ivory chest, With half a sigh she turn'd the key, Then raised her head with lips comprest, And gave my letters back to me. And gave the trinkets and the rings, My gifts, when gifts of mine could please; As looks a father on the things Of his dead son, I look'd on these. IV. She told me all her friends had said; I raged against the public liar; She talk'd as if her love were dead, But in my words were seeds of fire. "No more of love; your sex is known: I never will be twice deceived. Henceforth I trust the man alone, The woman cannot be believed. V. "Thro' slander, meanest spawn of Hell I spoke with heart, and heat and force, We rush'd into each other's arms. VI. We parted: sweetly gleam'd the stars, As homeward by the church I drew. So fresh they rose in shadow'd swells; "Dark porch," I said, "and silent aisle, There comes a sound of marriage bells." |