Page:Maud, and other poems.djvu/35

Rh

Below me, there, is the village, and looks how quiet and small! And yet bubbles o'er like a city, with gossip, scandal, and spite; And Jack on his ale-house bench has as many lies as a Czar; And here on the landward side, by a red rock, glimmers the Hall; And up in the high Hall-garden I see her pass like a light; But sorrow seize me if ever that light be my leading star!

When have I bow'd to her father, the wrinkled head of the race? I met her abroad with her brother, but not to her brother I bow'd;