“Who placed it here; to what request It gave assent, I never guessed. Some prayer of some hot heart, no doubt, To some coy maiden hereabout, Just as, maybe, With you, Sweet Heart, and me.” VI She waited, till with quickened breath She spoke, as one who banisheth Reserves that lovecraft heeds so well, To ease some mighty wish to tell: “’Twas I,” said she, “Who wrote thus clinchingly. VII “My lover’s wife—aye, wife!—knew nought Of what we felt, and bore, and thought . . . He’d said: ‘_I wed with thee or die_: _She stands between_, ’_tis true_. _But why_? _Do thou agree_, _And—she shalt cease to be_.’ VIII “How I held back, how love supreme Involved me madly in his scheme Why should I say? . . . I wrote assent (You found it hid) to his intent . . . She—_died_ . . . But he Came not to wed with me. IX “O shrink not, Love!—Had these eyes seen But once thine own, such had not been! But we were strangers . . . Thus the plot Cleared passion’s path.—Why came he not To wed with me? . . . He wived the gibbet-tree.” X —Under that oak of heretofore Sat Sweetheart mine with me no more: By many a Fiord, and Strom, and Fleuve Have I since wandered . . . Soon, for love, Distraught went she— ’Twas said for love of me. HER LATE HUSBAND (KING’S-HINTOCK, 182–.) “No—not where I shall make my own; But dig his grave just by The woman’s with the initialed stone— As near as he can lie— After whose death he seemed to ail, Though none considered why. “And when I also claim a nook, And your feet tread me in, Bestow me, under my old name, Among my kith and kin, That strangers gazing may not dream I did a husband win.” “Widow, your wish shall be obeyed; Though, thought I, certainly You’d lay him where your folk are laid, And your grave, too, will be, As custom hath it; you to right, And on the left hand he.” “Aye, sexton; such the Hintock rule, And none has said it nay; But now it haps a native here Eschews that ancient way . . . And it may be, some Christmas night, When angels walk, they’ll say: “‘O strange interment! Civilized lands Afford few types thereof; Here is a man who takes his rest Beside his very Love, Beside the one who was his wife In our sight up above!’” THE SELF-UNSEEING HERE is the ancient floor, Footworn and hollowed and thin, Here was the former door Where the dead feet walked in. She sat here in her chair, Smiling into the fire; He who played stood there, Bowing it higher and higher.