No More Learning

LORD WALTER'S WIFE.


I.

"But why do you go? " said the lady, while both sat under the yew,
And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the
sea-blue.

II.

"Because I fear you," he answered;--"because you are far too fair,
And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your gold-coloured hair. "

III.

"Oh, that," she said, "is no reason! Such knots are quickly undone,
And too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but too much sun. "

IV.

"Yet farewell so," he answered;--"the sun-stroke's fatal at times.
I value your husband, Lord Walter, whose gallop rings still from the
limes. "

V.

"Oh, that," she said, "is no reason. You smell a rose through a
fence:
If two should smell it, what matter?
who grumbles, and where's the
pretence? "

VI.

"But I," he replied, "have promised another, when love was free,
To love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves me. "

VII.

"Why, that," she said, "is no reason. Love's always free, I am
told.
Will you vow to be safe from the headache on Tuesday, and think it
will hold? "

VIII.

"But you," he replied, "have a daughter, a young little child, who
was laid
In your lap to be pure; so I leave you: the angels would make me
afraid. "

IX.

"Oh, that," she said, "is no reason. The angels keep out of the
way;
And Dora, the child, observes nothing, although you should please me
and stay. "

X.

At which he rose up in his anger,--"Why, now, you no longer are
fair!
Why, now, you no longer are fatal, but ugly and hateful, I swear. "

XI.