Volume I Part 34 (1/2)

XI.

”And when withal they near the hall, In silence let them lay My bier before the bolted door, And leave it for a day: For I have vowed, though I am proud, To go there as a guest in shroud, And not be turned away.”

XII.

The old nurse looked within her eyes Whose mutual look was gone; The old nurse stooped upon her mouth, Whose answering voice was done; And nought she heard, till a little bird Upon the cas.e.m.e.nt's woodbine swinging Broke out into a loud sweet singing For joy o' the summer sun: ”Alack! alack!”--she watched no more, With head on knee she wailed sore, And the little bird sang o'er and o'er For joy o' the summer sun.

PART THE FIFTH.

SHOWING HOW THE VOW WAS BROKEN.

I.

The poet oped his bolted door The midnight sky to view; A spirit-feel was in the air Which seemed to touch his spirit bare Whenever his breath he drew; And the stars a liquid softness had, As alone their holiness forbade Their falling with the dew.

II.

They s.h.i.+ne upon the steadfast hills, Upon the swinging tide, Upon the narrow track of beach And the murmuring pebbles pied: They s.h.i.+ne on every lovely place, They s.h.i.+ne upon the corpse's face, As _it_ were fair beside.

III.

It lay before him, humanlike, Yet so unlike a thing!

More awful in its shrouded pomp Than any crowned king: All calm and cold, as it did hold Some secret, glorying.

IV.

A heavier weight than of its clay Clung to his heart and knee: As if those folded palms could strike He staggered groaningly, And then o'erhung, without a groan, The meek close mouth that smiled alone, Whose speech the scroll must be.

THE WORDS OF ROSALIND'S SCROLL.

”I left thee last, a child at heart, A woman scarce in years.

I come to thee, a solemn corpse Which neither feels nor fears.

I have no breath to use in sighs; They laid the dead-weights on mine eyes To seal them safe from tears.

”Look on me with thine own calm look: I meet it calm as thou.

No look of thine can change _this_ smile, Or break thy sinful vow: I tell thee that my poor scorned heart Is of thine earth--thine earth, a part: It cannot vex thee now.

”But out, alas! these words are writ By a living, loving one, Adown whose cheeks, the proofs of life The warm quick tears do run: Ah, let the unloving corpse control Thy scorn back from the loving soul Whose place of rest is won.