Might stab her heart, she hid them so,
  The cooing babe a veil supplied;
And if she listened none might know,
        Or if she sighed;

Or if forecasting grief and care
  Unconscious solace thence she drew,
And lulled her babe, and unaware
        Lulled sorrow too.

The lady, she interpreter
  For looks or language wanted none,
If yet dominion stayed with her—­
        So lightly won;

If yet the heart she wounded sore
  Could yearn to her, and let her see
The homage that was evermore
        Disloyalty;

If sign would yield that it had bled,
  Or rallied from the faithless blow,
Or sick or sullen stooped to wed,
        She craved to know.

Now dreamy deep, now sweetly keen,
  Her asking eyes would round him shine;
But guarded lips and settled mien
        Refused the sign.

And unbeguiled and unbetrayed,
  The wonder yet within his breast,
It seemed a watchful part he played
        Against her quest.

Until with accent of regret
  She touched upon the past once more,
As if she dared him to forget
        His dream of yore.

And words of little weight let fall
  The fancy of the lower mind;
How waxing life must needs leave all
        Its best behind;

How he had said that “he would fain
  (One morning on the halcyon sea)
That life would at a stand remain
        Eternally;

“And sails be mirrored in the deep,
  As then they were, for evermore,
And happy spirits wake and sleep
        Afar from shore: 

“The well-contented heart be fed
  Ever as then, and all the world
(It were not small) unshadowed
        When sails were furled.

“Your words”—­a pause, and quietly
  With touch of calm self-ridicule: 
“It may be so—­for then,” said he,
        “I was a fool.”

With that he took his book, and left
  An awkward silence to my care,
That soon I filled with questions deft
        And debonair;

And slid into an easy vein,
  The favorite picture of the year;
The grouse upon her lord’s domain—­
        The salmon weir;

Till she could fain a sudden thought
  Upon neglected guests, and rise,
And make us her adieux, with nought
        In her dark eyes

Acknowledging or shame or pain;
  But just unveiling for our view
A little smile of still disdain
        As she withdrew.

Then nearer did the sunshine creep,
  And warmer came the wafting breeze;
The little babe was fast asleep
        On mother’s knees.

Fair was the face that o’er it leant,
  The cheeks with beauteous blushes dyed;
The downcast lashes, shyly bent,
        That failed to hide

Some tender shame.  She did not see;
  She felt his eyes that would not stir,
She looked upon her babe, and he
        So looked at her.