Page:Aurora Leigh a Poem.djvu/395

Rh By a supposition that she wanted these, Could act the husband’s coat and hat set up To creak i’ the wind and drive the world-crows off From pecking in her garden. Straw can fill A hole to keep out vermin. Now, at last, I own heaven’s angels round her life suffice To fight the rats of our society, Without this Romney: I can see it at last; And here is ended my pretension which The most pretended. Over-proud of course, Even so!—but not so stupid. . blind. . that I, Whom thus the great Taskmaster of the world Has set to meditate mistaken work, My dreary face against a dim blank wall Throughout man’s natural lifetime,—could pretend Or wish. . O love, I have loved you! O my soul, I have lost you!—but I swear by all yourself, And all you might have been to me these years, If that June-morning had not failed my hope,— I’m not so bestial, to regret that day This night,—this night, which still to you is fair; Nay, not so blind, Aurora. I attest Those stars above us, which I cannot see. . . ’

‘You cannot.’. . ‘That if Heaven itself should stoop, Remit the lots, and give me another chance, I’d say, ‘No other!’—I’d record my blank. Aurora never should be wife of mine.’