ISBN: 9781443237437

Excerpt: ...my crutch A cripple as I am, (For cramps had vexed her much,) Rather than this dear heart Lack one to take her part. For days, day after day, On my weary bed I lay, 226 Wishin… More...

Excerpt: ...my crutch A cripple as I am, (For cramps had vexed her much,) Rather than this dear heart Lack one to take her part. For days, day after day, On my weary bed I lay, 226 Wishing the time would pass; O, so wishing that I was Likely to pass away: For the one friend whom I knew Was dead, I knew no other, Neither father nor mother; And I, what should I do? One day the sexton''s wife Said: Rouse yourself, my dear: My Lady has driven down From the Hall into the town, And we think she''s coming here. Cheer up, for life is life. But I would not look or speak, Would not cheer up at all. My tears were like to fall, So I turned round to the wall And hid my hollow cheek, Making as if I slept, As silent as a stone, And no one knew I wept. What was my Lady to me, The grand lady from the Hall? She might come, or stay away, I was sick at heart that day: The whole world seemed to be Nothing, just nothing to me, For aught that I could see. 227 Yet I listened where I lay: A bustle came below, A clear voice said: I know; I will see her first alone, It may be less of a shock If she''s so weak to-day:-- A light hand turned the lock, A light step crossed the floor, One sat beside my bed: But never a word she said. For me, my shyness grew Each moment more and more: So I said never a word And neither looked nor stirred; I think she must have heard My heart go pit-a-pat: Thus I lay, my Lady sat, More than a mortal hour (I counted one and two By the house-clock while I lay): I seemed to have no power To think of a thing to say, Or do what I ought to do, Or rouse myself to a choice. At last she said: Margaret, Won''t you even look at me? A something in her voice Forced my tears to fall at last, 228 Forced sobs from me thick and fast; Something not of the past, Yet stirring memory; A something new, and yet Not new, too sweet to last, Which I never can forget. I turned and stared at her: Her cheek showed hollow-pale; Her hair... Christina Georgina Rossetti, Books, History, Poems Books>History, General Books LLC<

ISBN: 9781443237437

Excerpt: ...my crutch A cripple as I am, (For cramps had vexed her much,) Rather than this dear heart Lack one to take her part. For days, day after day, On my weary bed I lay, 226 Wishin… More...

Excerpt: ...my crutch A cripple as I am, (For cramps had vexed her much,) Rather than this dear heart Lack one to take her part. For days, day after day, On my weary bed I lay, 226 Wishing the time would pass; O, so wishing that I was Likely to pass away: For the one friend whom I knew Was dead, I knew no other, Neither father nor mother; And I, what should I do? One day the sexton''s wife Said: Rouse yourself, my dear: My Lady has driven down From the Hall into the town, And we think she''s coming here. Cheer up, for life is life. But I would not look or speak, Would not cheer up at all. My tears were like to fall, So I turned round to the wall And hid my hollow cheek, Making as if I slept, As silent as a stone, And no one knew I wept. What was my Lady to me, The grand lady from the Hall? She might come, or stay away, I was sick at heart that day: The whole world seemed to be Nothing, just nothing to me, For aught that I could see. 227 Yet I listened where I lay: A bustle came below, A clear voice said: I know; I will see her first alone, It may be less of a shock If she''s so weak to-day:-- A light hand turned the lock, A light step crossed the floor, One sat beside my bed: But never a word she said. For me, my shyness grew Each moment more and more: So I said never a word And neither looked nor stirred; I think she must have heard My heart go pit-a-pat: Thus I lay, my Lady sat, More than a mortal hour (I counted one and two By the house-clock while I lay): I seemed to have no power To think of a thing to say, Or do what I ought to do, Or rouse myself to a choice. At last she said: Margaret, Won''t you even look at me? A something in her voice Forced my tears to fall at last, 228 Forced sobs from me thick and fast; Something not of the past, Yet stirring memory; A something new, and yet Not new, too sweet to last, Which I never can forget. I turned and stared at her: Her cheek showed hollow-pale; Her hair... Christina Georgina Rossetti, Books, History, Poems Books>History <

ISBN: 9781443237437

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