Low their voices, and their laughter stopp’d
While he stood and watch’d them at their play.
No, he never nam’d their mother’s name.
But I told them of her: told them all
She had been, so gentle, good and bright;
And I always took them every night
Where her picture hung in the great hall.
There she stood: white daisy’s in her hand,
And her red lips parted as to speak
With a smile; the blue and sunny air