"Oh, you who used so to shelter me,
Warm from the least wind—why, now the east wind
Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see.
"Oh, my husband of flesh and blood,
For whom my mother I left, and brother,
And all I had, accounting it good,
"What do you do there, under the ground,
In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow.
What do you do there? What have you found?"—
"What I do there I must not tell,
But I have plenty—kind wife, content ye:
It is well with us: it is well.
"Tender hand hath made our nest;
Our fear is ended; our hope is blended
With present pleasure, and we have rest."
"Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come,
If your present days are so pleasant,
For my days are so wearisome.
"Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake:
Why should I tease you, who cannot please you
Any more with the pains I take?"
HE AND SHE: SIR EDWIN ARNOLD
"She is dead!" they said to him; "come away;
Kiss her and leave her,—thy love is clay!"
They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hair;
On her forehead of stone they laid it fair.