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O heart of stone, are you flesh, and caught

By that you swore to withstand ?

For what was it else within me wrought

But, I fear, the new strong wine of love,

That made my tongue so stammer and trip
When I saw the treasured splendour, her hand,
Come sliding out of her sacred glove,
And the sunlight broke from her lip?


I have play'd with her when a child ;

She remembers it now we meet.

Ah well, well, well, I may be beguiled

By some coquettish deceit.

Yet, if she were not a cheat,

If Maud were all that she seem'd,

And her smile had all that I dream'd,

Then the world were not so bitter

But a smile could make it sweet.



Did I hear it half in a doze

Long since, I know not where ?

Did I dream it an hour ago,

When asleep in this arm-chair ?


Men were drinking together,

Drinking and talking of me; "Well, if it prove a girl, the boy

Will have plenty : so let it be.'


Is it an echo of something

Read with a boy's delight, Viziers nodding together

In some Arabian night?


Strange, that I hear two men,

Somewhere, talking of me;

'Well, if it prove a girl, my boy

Will have plenty : so let it be.'


SHE came to the village church,

And sat by a pillar alone ;
An angel watching an urn
Wept over her, carved in stone;
And once, but once, she lifted her eyes,
And suddenly, sweetly, strangely blush'd
To find they were met by my own;
And suddenly, sweetly, my heart beat stronger
And thicker, until I heard no longer
The snowy-banded, dilettante,
Delicate-handed priest intone;
And thought, is it pride, and mused and sigh'd
'No surely, now it cannot be pride.'



I was walking a mile,

More than a mile from the shore,

The sun look'd out with a smile

Betwixt the cloud and the moor,

And riding at set of day
Over the dark moor land,

Rapidly riding far away,

She waved to me with her hand,

There were two at her side,

Something flash'd in the sun, Down by the hill I saw them ride,

In a moment they were gone :

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