RHYME OF THE DUCHESS MAY.
211
"Get thee in, thou soft ladiè!—here is never a place for thee!"—
Toll slowly!
"Braid thine hair and clasp thy gown, that thy beauty in its moan
May find grace with Leigh of Leigh."
Toll slowly!
"Braid thine hair and clasp thy gown, that thy beauty in its moan
May find grace with Leigh of Leigh."
She stood up in bitter case, with a pale yet steady face,—
Toll slowly!
Like a statue thunderstruck, which, though quivering, seems to look
Right against the thunder-place.
Toll slowly!
Like a statue thunderstruck, which, though quivering, seems to look
Right against the thunder-place.
And her foot trod in, with pride, her own tears i' the stone beside,—
Toll slowly!
"Go to, faithful friends, go to'—Judge no more what ladies do,—
No, nor how their lords may ride!"
Toll slowly!
"Go to, faithful friends, go to'—Judge no more what ladies do,—
No, nor how their lords may ride!"
Then the good steed's rein she took, and his neck did kiss and stroke:—
Toll slowly!
Soft he neighed to answer her; and then followed up the stair;
For the love of her sweet look.
Toll slowly!
Soft he neighed to answer her; and then followed up the stair;
For the love of her sweet look.
Oh, and steeply, steeply wound up the narrow stair around,—
Toll slowly!
Oh, and closely, closely speeding, step by step beside her treading,
Did he follow, meek as hound.
Toll slowly!
Oh, and closely, closely speeding, step by step beside her treading,
Did he follow, meek as hound.
On the east tower, high'st of all,—there, where never a hoof did fall,—
Toll slowly!
Out they swept, a vision steady,—noble steed and lovely lady,
Calm as if in bower or stall!
Toll slowly!
Out they swept, a vision steady,—noble steed and lovely lady,
Calm as if in bower or stall!
