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!