But ere she from the church-door stepped
She smiled and told us why:
'It was a wicked woman's curse,'
Quoth she, 'and what care I?' 335
She smiled, and smiled, and passed it off
Ere from the door she stept—
But all agree it would have been
Much better had she wept.
And if her heart was not at ease, 340
This was her constant cry—
'It was a wicked woman's curse—
God's good, and what care I?'
There was a hurry in her looks,
Her struggles she redoubled: 345
'It was a wicked woman's curse,
And why should I be troubled?'
These tears will come—I dandled her
When 'twas the merest fairy—
Good creature! and she hid it all: 350
She told it not to Mary.
But Mary heard the tale: her arms
Round Ellen's neck she threw;
'O Ellen, Ellen, she cursed me,
And now she hath cursed you!' 355
I saw young Edward by himself
Stalk fast adown the lee,
He snatched a stick from every fence,
A twig from every tree.
He snapped them still with hand or knee, 360
And then away they flew!
As if with his uneasy limbs
He knew not what to do!
You see, good sir! that single hill?
His farm lies underneath: 365
He heard it there, he heard it all,
And only gnashed his teeth.
Now Ellen was a darling love
In all his joys and cares:
And Ellen's name and Mary's name 370
Fast-linked they both together came,
Whene'er he said his prayers.