< Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu
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��FRANCIS MAHONY

'Tis the bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the River Lee.

��ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING 678. Rosalind's Scroll

T LEFT thee last, a child at heart,

  • A woman scarce in years:

I come to thee, a solemn corpse

Which neither feels nor fears. I have no breath to use in sighs ; They laid the dead-weights on mine eyes

To seal them safe from tears.

Look on me with thine own calm look :

I meet it calm as thou. No look of thine can change this smile,

Or break thy sinful vow : I tell thee that my poor scorn'd heart Is of thine earth thine earth a part:

It cannot vex thee now.

I have pray'd for thee with bursting sob

When passion's course was free; I have pray'd for thee with silent lips

In the anguish none could see ; They whisper'd oft, ' She sleepeth soft '

But I only pray'd for thee.

�� �

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