She spoke; and in one moment as it were, While yet she went about her household ways, 450 Ev'n as she dwelt upon his latest words, That he had loved her longer than she knew, That autumn into autumn flash'd again, And there he stood once more before her face, Claiming her promise. "Is it a year?" she ask'd. 455 "Yes, if the nuts," he said, "be ripe again: Come out and see." But she--she put him off-- So much to look to--such a change--a month-- Give her a month--she knew that she was bound-- A month--no more. Then Philip with his eyes 460 Full of that lifelong hunger, and his voice Shaking a little like a drunkard's hand, "Take your own time, Annie, take your own time." And Annie could have wept for pity of him; And yet she held him on delayingly 465 With many a scarce-believable excuse, Trying his truth and his long-sufferance, Till half another year had slipped away. By this the lazy gossips of the port, Abhorrent of a calculation crost, 470 Began to chafe as at a personal wrong. Some thought that Philip did but trifle with her; Some that she but held off to draw him on; And others laughed at her and Philip too, As simple folk that knew not their own minds; 475 And one in whom all evil fancies clung Like serpent's eggs together, laughingly Would hint at worse in either. Her own son Was silent, tho' he often look'd his wish; But evermore the daughter prest upon her 480 To wed the man so dear to all of them And lift the household out of poverty; And Philip's rosy face contracting grew Careworn and wan; and all these things fell on him Sharp as reproach. At last one night it chanced 485 That Annie could not sleep, but earnestly Pray'd for a sign, "my Enoch, is he gone?" Then compass'd round by the blind wall of night Brook'd not the expectant terror of her heart, Started from bed, and struck herself a light, 490 Then desperately seized the holy Book, Suddenly set it wide to find a sign, Suddenly put her finger on the text, "Under the palm-tree.[213]" That was nothing to her: No meaning there: she closed the Book and slept: 495 When lo! her Enoch sitting on a height, Under a palm-tree, over him the Sun: "He is gone," she thought, "he is happy, he is singing Hosanna in the highest: yonder shines The Sun of Righteousness, and these be palms 500 Whereof the happy people strowing cried 'Hosanna in the highest!'" Here she woke, Resolved, sent for him and said wildly to him, "There is no reason why we should not wed."