[[Listen]]
|
None so rare, None so fair, Yet enraptur'd mortal heart; Maiden dear. Past compare, Oh, 'twas death from thee to part! Ere I saw thy sweet face On my heart there was no trace Of that love from above, That in sorrow now I prove; but alas, thou art gone, And in grief I mourn alone; Life a shadow doth seem, And my joy a fleeting dream, A fleeting dream. None so rare, etc. |
And after he had sung thus touchingly of Martha, he threw himself down on the grass, and remained absorbed in his thoughts. But while he was resting there, Lady Harriet and Sir Tristram had also wandered thither. At first they did not see Lionel.
"I have come here away from the others, in order to be alone," Harriet declared impatiently.
"Alone with me?" Sir Tristram asked indiscreetly.
"Good heaven—it doesn't matter in the least whether you are here or elsewhere. I am quite unconscious of you, wherever you are," she replied, not very graciously. "Do go away and let me alone!" and, finding that he could not please her, Tristram wandered off, and left her meditating there. After a while she began to sing to herself, softly, and Lionel recognized the voice.
"It is she!—Martha!" he cried, starting up. Harriet recognized him, and at once found herself in a dreadful state of mind.