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Arbaces, and Phenomenon, and the rest,
Till, not to die a listener, I arose,
And with me Philip, talking still; and so
And following our own shadows thrice as long As when they follow'd us from Philip's door, Arrived, and found the sun of sweet content Re-risen in Katie's eyes, and all things well.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers ;
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I loiter round my cresses ;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
But I go on for ever.
Yes, men may come and go; and these are gone,
Remains the lean P. W. on his tomb :
I scraped the lichen from it: Katie walks
By the long wash of Australasian seas
So Lawrence Aylmer, seated on a style
Mused, and was mute. On a sudden a low breath
Of tender air made tremble in the hedge
The fragil bindweed-bells and briony rings; And he look'd up. There stood a maiden near, Waiting to pass.
In much amaze he stared On bashful
azure, and on hair In gloss and hue the chestnut, when the shell
Divides threefold to show the fruit within :
Then, wondering, ask'd her 'Are you from the
'Yes' answer'd she. “Pray stay a little: pardon
• Indeed!' and here he look'd so self-perplext,
Then looking at her; “Too happy, fresh and fair, Too fresh and fair in our sad world's best bloom, To be the ghost of one who bore your name About these meadows, twenty years ago.'
not heard ?' said Katie, we came
We bought the farm we tenanted before.
But she-you will be welcome—0, come in!'