The people whispering low amid the aisles;
My heart so loud, nor hush’d in sermon-time;
The multitude with wide eyes fix’d on me;
Doretta, and my father, still and sad;
And Haydn’s face upon his pale, pale hands.
LVII.
And two months after that I saw them wed,
My Haydn and Doretta, in the church.
And, since then, I have pray’d for him long days,
And longer nights; and I have oft had hopes