“But has kept himself of late away; Yet,—in short, he’s coming, I heard him say— That lover of yours— To this very spot on this very day.” “—Then I’ll wait, I’ll wait, through wet or dry! I’ll give him a goblet brimming high— This lover of mine— And not of complaint one word or sigh!” “—Nell, him I have chanced so much to see, That—he has grown the lover of me!— That lover of yours— And it’s here our meeting is planned to be.” THE MILESTONE BY THE RABBIT-BURROW (ON YELL’HAM HILL) IN my loamy nook As I dig my hole I observe men look At a stone, and sigh As they pass it by To some far goal. Something it says To their glancing eyes That must distress The frail and lame, And the strong of frame Gladden or surprise. Do signs on its face Declare how far Feet have to trace Before they gain Some blest champaign Where no gins are? THE LAMENT OF THE LOOKING-GLASS WORDS from the mirror softly pass To the curtains with a sigh: “Why should I trouble again to glass These smileless things hard by, Since she I pleasured once, alas, Is now no longer nigh!” “I’ve imaged shadows of coursing cloud, And of the plying limb On the pensive pine when the air is loud With its aerial hymn; But never do they make me proud To catch them within my rim! “I flash back phantoms of the night That sometimes flit by me, I echo roses red and white— The loveliest blooms that be— But now I never hold to sight So sweet a flower as she.” CROSS-CURRENTS THEY parted—a pallid, trembling I pair, And rushing down the lane He left her lonely near me there; —I asked her of their pain. “It is for ever,” at length she said, “His friends have schemed it so, That the long-purposed day to wed Never shall we two know.” “In such a cruel case,” said I, “Love will contrive a course?” “—Well, no . . . A thing may underlie, Which robs that of its force; “A thing I could not tell him of, Though all the year I have tried; This: never could I have given him love, Even had I been his bride. “So, when his kinsfolk stop the way Point-blank, there could not be A happening in the world to-day More opportune for me! “Yet hear—no doubt to your surprise— I am sorry, for his sake, That I have escaped the sacrifice I was prepared to make!” THE OLD NEIGHBOUR AND THE NEW ’TWAS to greet the new rector I called I here, But in the arm-chair I see My old friend, for long years installed here, Who palely nods to me. The new man explains what he’s planning In a smart and cheerful tone, And I listen, the while that I’m scanning The figure behind his own.