After this she often came To bring me fruit or wine, Or sometimes hothouse flowers. And at nights I lay awake Often and often thinking What to do for her sake. Wet or dry it was the same: She would come in at all hours, Set me eating and drinking And say I must grow strong; 280 At last the day seemed long And home seemed scarcely home If she did not come. Well, I grew strong again: In time of primroses, I went to pluck them in the lane; In time of nestling birds, I heard them chirping round the house; And all the herds Were out at grass when I grew strong, 290 And days were waxen long, And there was work for bees Among the May-bush boughs, And I had shot up tall, And life felt after all Pleasant, and not so long When I grew strong. I was going to the Hall To be my Lady's maid: 'Her little friend,' she said to me, 300 'Almost her child,' She said and smiled Sighing painfully; Blushing, with a second flush As if she blushed to blush. Friend, servant, child: just this My standing at the Hall; The other servants call me 'Miss,' My Lady calls me 'Margaret,' With her clear voice musical. 310 She never chides when I forget This or that; she never chides. Except when people come to stay, (And that's not often) at the Hall, I sit with her all day And ride out when she rides. She sings to me and makes me sing; Sometimes I read to her, Sometimes we merely sit and talk. She noticed once my ring 320 And made me tell its history: That evening in our garden walk She said she should infer The ring had been my father's first, Then my mother's, given for me To the nurse who nursed My mother in her misery, That so quite certainly Some one might know me, who... Then she was silent, and I too. 330 I hate when people come: The women speak and stare And mean to be so civil. This one will stroke my hair, That one will pat my cheek And praise my Lady's kindness, Expecting me to speak; I like the proud ones best Who sit as struck with blindness, As if I wasn't there. 340 But if any gentleman Is staying at the Hall (Though few come prying here), My Lady seems to fear Some downright dreadful evil, And makes me keep my room As closely as she can: So I hate when people come, It is so troublesome. In spite of all her care, 350 Sometimes to keep alive I sometimes do contrive To get out in the grounds For a whiff of wholesome air, Under the rose you know: It's charming to break bounds, Stolen waters are sweet, And what's the good of feet If for days they mustn't go? Give me a longer tether, 360 Or I may break from it.