|
Page 8
Eleanor.
Oh my love! Oh, my own love!
Forgive me, help me.
Lionel.
Yes, press your dear arms
Still round my neck, close, so. My Eleanor,
You are my own again, is it not so?
Eleanor.
Yes, yes. - I cannot tell - Oh Lionel,
Do help me. Tell me what to do.
Lionel.
My love,
My promised wife, we stand together now;
They shall not part us with their formal rules.
I gave my word, till I could come to them,
"I am rich enough to ask your leave again,"
I would not take aloud the right you gave
And say "she is for me," nor ask to break
The weariness of absence with one word
Written to bid you think I worked for you,
Nor one dear answer that you loved me still.
"No letters, no engagement." I bore all,
And kept my faith. They've kept no faith with me:
And now I face them. Love, can you be firm
And wait? Wait, not for such a wealth and rank
As shall be Lady Boycott's at the Hall,
But for a simple home where things are smoothed
By love more than by spending, for a life
Where little cares go plodding hand in hand
With little pleasures?
Next |
A Woman Sold
Bartimaeus
Judas
Pilate
The Walk To Emmaus
A Bride
A March Night
A Messenger
A Mother's Cry
A Wedding
Afterwards
Dead Amy
Deserted
Dreaming
Glad Waves
Going
How The Brook Sings
If
In The Storm
In The Sunshine
Looking Downstairs
Mary Lost
Never Again
Night Whispers
On The Lake
On The Shore
Our Lily
Passing Away
Perjured
Safe
Shadow
Sunlight
The Blush Rose
The Gift
The Heiress' Wooer
The Hidden Wound
The Lake
The Land Of Happy Dreams
The Old Year Out
The Red Star On The Hill
The River
The Setting Star
The Shadow Of A Cloud
To And Fro
To One Of Many
Too faithful
Two Maidens |
