X.

Slowly, but surely ever,
Dora’s poor jealous pride,
Which she called love for Herbert,
Drove Alice from his side;
And, spite of nervous effort
To share their altered life,
She felt a check to Herbert,
A burden to his wife.

XI.

This was the least; for Alice
Feared, dreaded, knew at length
How much his nature owed her
Of truth, and power, and strength;
And watched the daily failing
Of all his nobler part: 
Low aims, weak purpose, telling
In lower, weaker art.

XII.

And now, when he is dying,
The last words she could hear
Must not be hers, but given
The bride of one short year. 
The last care is another’s;
The last prayer must not be
The one they learnt together
Beside their mother’s knee.

XIII.

Summoned at last:  she kisses
The clay-cold stiffening hand;
And, reading pleading efforts
To make her understand,
Answers, with solemn promise,
In clear but trembling tone,
To Dora’s life henceforward
She will devote her own.

XIV.

Now all is over.  Alice
Dares not remain to weep,
But soothes the frightened Dora
Into a sobbing sleep. 
The poor weak child will need her:  . . . 
Oh, who can dare complain,
When God sends a new Duty
To comfort each new Pain!

III.

I.

The House is all deserted,
In the dim evening gloom,
Only one figure passes
Slowly from room to room;
And, pausing at each doorway,
Seems gathering up again
Within her heart the relics
Of bygone joy and pain.

II.

There is an earnest longing
In those who onward gaze,
Looking with weary patience
Towards the coming days. 
There is a deeper longing,
More sad, more strong, more keen: 
Those know it who look backward,
And yearn for what has been.

III.

At every hearth she pauses,
Touches each well-known chair;
Gazes from every window,
Lingers on every stair. 
What have these months brought Alice
Now one more year is past? 
This Christmas Eve shall tell us,
The third one and the last.

IV.

The wilful, wayward Dora,
In those first weeks of grief,
Could seek and find in Alice
Strength, soothing, and relief;
And Alice—­last sad comfort
True woman-heart can take—­
Had something still to suffer
And bear for Herbert’s sake.