Page:Aurora Leigh a Poem.djvu/302

Rh Because we had a dream on such a stone, Or this or that,—but, once being wholly waked, And come back to the stone without the dream, We trip upon’t,—alas! and hurt ourselves; Or else it falls on us and grinds us flat, The heaviest grave-stone on this buying earth. —But while I stood and mused, a quiet touch Fell light upon my arm, and, turning round, A pair of moistened eyes convicted mine. ‘What, Marian! is the babe astir so soon?’ ‘He sleeps,’ she answered; ‘I have crept up thrice, And seen you sitting, standing, still at watch. I thought it did you good till now, but now’. . . ‘But now,’ I said, ‘you leave the child alone.’ ‘And your’re alone,’ she answered,—and she looked As if I, too, were something. Sweet the help Of one we have helped! Thanks, Marian, for that help.

I found a house, at Florence, on the hill Of Bellosguardo. ’Tis a tower that keeps A post of double-observation o’er The valley of Arno (holding as a hand The outspread city) straight toward Fiesole And Mount Morello and the setting sun,— The Vallombrosan mountains to the right, Which sunrise fills as full as crystal cups Wine-filled, and red to the brim because it’s red. No sun could die, nor yet be born, unseen By dwellers at my villa: morn and eve Were magnified before us in the pure