The Lay of the Brown Rosary.
"Go thy ways. I did not think to have shed one tear for thee, but thou hast made me water my plants spite of my heart. "
Witch of Edmonton.
Witch of Edmonton.
FIRST PART.
"Onora, Onora "—her mother is calling—
She sits at the lattice and hears the dew falling
Drop after drop from the sycamores laden
With dew as with blossom—and calls home the maiden—
"Night cometh, Onora."
She sits at the lattice and hears the dew falling
Drop after drop from the sycamores laden
With dew as with blossom—and calls home the maiden—
"Night cometh, Onora."
She looks down the garden-walk caverned with trees,
To the limes at the end, where the green arbour is—
"Some sweet thought or other may keep where it found her,
While, forgot or unseen in the dreamlight around her,
Night cometh—Onora!"
To the limes at the end, where the green arbour is—
"Some sweet thought or other may keep where it found her,
While, forgot or unseen in the dreamlight around her,
Night cometh—Onora!"
She looks up the forest whose alleys shoot on
Like the mute minster-aisles, when the anthem is done,
And the choristers, sitting with faces aslant,
Feel the silence to consecrate more than the chant—
"Onora, Onora!"
Like the mute minster-aisles, when the anthem is done,
And the choristers, sitting with faces aslant,
Feel the silence to consecrate more than the chant—
"Onora, Onora!"
And forward she looketh across the brown heath—
"Onora, art coming?"—What is it she seeth?
Nought, nought, but the grey border-stone that is wist
To dilate and assume a wild shape in the mist—
"My daughter!"—Then over
"Onora, art coming?"—What is it she seeth?
Nought, nought, but the grey border-stone that is wist
To dilate and assume a wild shape in the mist—
"My daughter!"—Then over
