13

For Is trust if an enemy's fleet dame yonder
round by the hill, it bas 100m oda to

And the rushing battle-bolt sang from the three-
decker out of the foam, on of smoo
That the smooth-faced snubnosed rogue would
leap from his counter and till, avtor
And strike, if he could, were it but with his
cheating yardwand, homeJssiq adlı

Maud

14

What am I raging alone as my father raged in his mood ide mort dand primos

Must I too creep to the hollow and dash myself down and die

"Rather than hold by the law that I made, nevermore to broode younod udugnie

"On a horror of shatter'd limbs and a wretched swindler's lie?ed or nodt besimok

815

Would there be, sorrow for me? there was love in the passionate shriek, dahi beg

Love for the silent thing that had made false haste to the grave— M&H ont to

T

Wrapt in a cloak, as I saw him, and thought

he would rise and speakloub rost And rave at the lie and the liar, ah God, as he used to ravels to gailish boost

I am sick of the Hall and the hill, I am sick
of the moor and the main. vd bauoa

Why should I stay? can a sweeter chance ever
come to me here ed to tuo 19379b
Ophaving the nerves of motion as wells as the
nerves of pain, totoo aid most qual
Were it not wise if I fled from the place and
the pit and the feardswbang quimedo

17

There are workmen up at

the Hall: they are paid i

coming back from abroad

The dark old place will be gilt by the touch of

a millionaire:

sib bas awob I have heard, I know not whence, of the singular beauty of Maud; promisy

I play'd with the girl when a child; she promised then to be fair a'olbniwe

718

Maud with her venturous climbings and tumbles and childish escapes,snoisang et al

Maud the delight of the village, the ringing joy

of the Hall, Maud with her sweet purse-mouth when my father dangled the grapes, blue of

Maud the beloved of my mother, the moonfaced darling of all,- VAT of bow od

What is she now? My dreams are bad. She

No, may bring me a curse.

there is

vite let me alone.

game on the moor; she will

Thanks, for the fiend best knows whether bob woman or man be the worse.

I will bury myself in myself, and the Devil no may pipe to his own.

II

Long have I sigh'd for a calm: God grant I may find it at last!

It will never be broken by Maud, she has
neither savour nor salt,

But a cold and clear-cut face, as I found when
her carriage past,
wool ador
Perfectly beautifub: let it be granted her : where
is the fault?

All that I saw (for her eyes were downcast, not
to be seen)

Faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null, Dead perfection, no more; nothing more, if it had not beenkbara

For a chance of travel, a paleness, an hour's omdefect of the rose, w

Or an underlip, you may call it a little too ripe, dido too full,

Or the least little delicate aquiline curve in a sensitive nose,

From which I escaped heart free, with the least little touch of spleen.

Matia

9d2 bed or emoorb III 1 wou le ai udW
Cold and clear-cut face, why come you so cruelly
meek,
goom ndt Hoong 1983: 97900,00
Breaking a slumber in which all spleenful folly
adoras drown'd,
tand basit 9d3 101

Pale with the golden beam of an eyelash dead
оп cheek,
Passionless, pale, cold face, star-sweet on a
gloom profound;

Womanlike, taking revenge too deep for a
transient wrong

Done but in thought to your beauty, and ever as
pale as before
ted as a bad you

Growing and fading and growing upon me with

out a sound,

Luminous, gemlike, ghostlike, deathlike, half the night long

Growing and fading and growing, till I could

bear it no more,

But arose, and all by myself in my own dark
garden ground,
Listening now to the tide in its broad-flung

shiping roar,

Now to the scream of a madden'd beach dragg'd afo down by the wave,vant to

Walk'd in a wintry wind by a ghastly glimmer,

and found Han vs NOT gihabmu me 10 The shining daffodil dead, and Orion low in his sni grave, oniliups otsailah obuil sesal er 10 Scon svitiense

Josel edt dti pri 1753d boquoso I doidw mo13 solye to dowor sinif

of tea and adtord rodīdiw vab-ot red tem I

A million emeralds break from the ruby-budded ́ ́lime

In the little grove where I sit-ah, wherefore

cannot I be Like things, of the season gay, like the bountiful

17sed TOY BOTH woy but

gied

season bland, When the far-off sail is blown by the breeze of fil a softer clime,

eze

Half-lost in the liquid azure bloom of a crescent

of sea,

The silent sapphire-spangled marriage ring of

01

the land? bisn

Below me, there, is the village, and looks how quiet and small!

And yet bubbles o'er like a city, with gossip, scandal, and spite;

And Jack on his ale-house bench has as many

lies as a Czar;

And here on the landward side, by a

glimmers the Hall;

a red rock,

And up in the high Hall-garden I see her pass

like a light;

But sorrow seize me if ever that light be my

leading star!

an yd bavoin 315

Maud