To say he loved, Were to affirm what oft his eyes avouch'd, What many an action testified -- and yet -- What wanted confirmation of his tongue. But if he loved -- it brought him not content! 'Twas now abstraction -- now a start -- anon A pacing to and fro -- anon, a stillness, As naught remain'd of life, save life itself, And feeling, thought, and motion, were extinct! Then all again was action! Disinclined To converse, save he held it with himself; Which oft he did, in moody vein discoursing, And ever and anon invoking Honour, As some high contest there were pending, 'twixt Himself and him, wherein her aid he needed. -- I saw a struggle, But knew not what it was. I wonder'd still, That what to me was all content, to him Was all disturbance; but my turn did come. At length he talk'd of leaving us; at length, He fix'd the parting day -- but kept it not -- O how my heart did bound! Then first I knew It had been sinking. Deeper still it sank When next he fix'd to go; and sank it then To bound no more! He went. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHILD ALONE: 4. PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SONNET: 15 by RICHARD BARNFIELD SAME COTTAGE - BUT ANOTHER SONG, OF ANOTHER SEASON by HENRY MAXIMILIAN BEERBOHM IN AN AEROPLANE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |