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!