I

“WE moved with pensive paces, I and he, And bent our faded faces Wistfully, For something troubled him, and troubled me.

“The lanthorn feebly lightened Our grey hall, Where ancient brands had brightened Hearth and wall, And shapes long vanished whither vanish all.

“‘O why, Love, nightly, daily,’ I had said, ‘Dost sigh, and smile so palely, As if shed Were all Life’s blossoms, all its dear things dead?’

“‘Since silence sets thee grieving,’ He replied, ‘And I abhor deceiving One so tried, Why, Love, I’ll speak, ere time us twain divide.’

“He held me, I remember, Just as when Our life was June—(September It was then); And we walked on, until he spoke again.

“‘Susie, an Irish mummer, Loud-acclaimed Through the gay London summer, Was I; named A master in my art, who would be famed.

“‘But lo, there beamed before me Lady Su; God’s altar-vow she swore me When none knew, And for her sake I bade the sock adieu.

“‘My Lord your father’s pardon Thus I won: He let his heart unharden Towards his son, And honourably condoned what we had done;

“‘But said—recall you, dearest?— As for Su, I’d see her—ay, though nearest Me unto— Sooner entombed than in a stage purlieu!

“‘Just so.—And here he housed us, In this nook, Where Love like balm has drowsed us: Robin, rook, Our chief familiars, next to string and book.

“‘Our days here, peace-enshrouded, Followed strange The old stage-joyance, crowded, Rich in range; But never did my soul desire a change,

“‘Till now, when far uncertain Lips of yore Call, call me to the curtain, There once more, But once, to tread the boards I trod before.

“‘A night—the last and single Ere I die— To face the lights, to mingle As did I Once in the game, and rivet every eye!’

“Such was his wish. He feared it, Feared it though Rare memories endeared it. I, also, Feared it still more; its outcome who could know?

“‘Alas, my Love,’ said I then, ‘Since it be A wish so mastering, why, then, E’en go ye!— Despite your pledge to father and to me . . . ’

“’Twas fixed; no more was spoken Thereupon; Our silences were broken Only on The petty items of his needs were gone.

“Farewell he bade me, pleading That it meant So little, thus conceding To his bent; And then, as one constrained to go, he went.

“Thwart thoughts I let deride me, As, ’twere vain To hope him back beside me Ever again: Could one plunge make a waxing passion wane?

“I thought, ‘Some wild stage-woman, Honour-wrecked . . . ’ But no: it was inhuman To suspect; Though little cheer could my lone heart affect!