"And didst thou visit him no more? Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare, The waters laid thee at his doore, Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Down drifted to thy dwelling-place." Here feeling is deepest in the speaker, and in the listener, and, of course, in the reader. The rest of the poem is a sweet and mournful lyric: "I shall never hear her more Where the reeds and rushes quiver." The poem closes with a crooning over Elizabeth's song as the aged woman heard it for the last time. Many public readers centre their whole interest in the imitation or mere representation of this song, and all the fervor of the piece is made accidental to this. But such a method centres all attention in mere vocal skill, to the loss, if not to the perversion of its spirit. This song must not be given literally, but in the character of the aged speaker. It lives in the old mother's mind as a heart-breaking memory, and any artificial or literal rendering of it destroys the illusion or the true impression of the poem. It should be given in a very subdued tone with the least possible suggestion, if any at all, of the music of the song. The first stanza is apt also to be given out of character. It is a burst of passionate remembrance and must be given carefully as the overture embodying the spirit of the whole. When the grandmother is asked by the interlocutor regarding the story, she breaks into sudden excitement, and then gradually passes into the quieter mood of reminiscence. After that, the poem is rhythmic alternation between her memory of the exciting events, and her own experiences; in short, a co-ordination of the lyric and the dramatic spirit. The study of this poem affords a fine illustration of movement,--similar to that of a great symphony. The long pauses, sudden transitions in pitch and color, and especially the pulsations of feeling, when given in harmony illustrate the marvellous power of the human voice. XI. ACTIONS OF MIND AND BODY As the monologue is a form of dramatic expression, it necessarily implies action,--the most dramatic of all languages. Dramatic expression, in its very nature, implies life, and life is shown by movement. For this reason action is in some sense the primary or most necessary language required for dramatic interpretation. Action is a language that belongs to the whole body. As light moves quickest in the outer world, so action,--the language that appeals to the eye--is the first appeal to consciousness. Life expands,--the gleaming eye, the elevated and gravitating body, the lifted hand,--all these show character and a living or present realization of ideas, and are most important in the monologue.