The heir of Rookwood.
243
And take her pay in heart throes—from myself
I hid my grief that was my inmost self!
The poisonous fruit that life let fall for me
I held in cautious hands, and wary thought
Did only graze the outer rind of sorrow,
Knowing there was a bitter core within
She must not feed upon.
The sob, the tear,
Albeit but visions, did their angel errand,
And my roused heart made answer.
All that night
I watched beside my casement. So the next.
And so the next. No Lilia! Through the day
I hung upon her footsteps. Arthur, too,
He ever at her side, and I, apart,
A careless loiterer whom chance had thrown
Into their company. 'Twas then I marked
Lilia's white cheek, faint step, and hollow laugh
That made mirth pitiful. Alas, poor child—
An infant to this worldling! Had my pride
Suffered her erring feet unchid to wander
I hid my grief that was my inmost self!
The poisonous fruit that life let fall for me
I held in cautious hands, and wary thought
Did only graze the outer rind of sorrow,
Knowing there was a bitter core within
She must not feed upon.
The sob, the tear,
Albeit but visions, did their angel errand,
And my roused heart made answer.
All that night
I watched beside my casement. So the next.
And so the next. No Lilia! Through the day
I hung upon her footsteps. Arthur, too,
He ever at her side, and I, apart,
A careless loiterer whom chance had thrown
Into their company. 'Twas then I marked
Lilia's white cheek, faint step, and hollow laugh
That made mirth pitiful. Alas, poor child—
An infant to this worldling! Had my pride
Suffered her erring feet unchid to wander
