Page:Maud, and other poems.djvu/80

60 Life of my life, wilt thou not answer this? 'The dusky strand of Death inwoven here With dear Love's tie, makes Love himself more dear.'

Is that enchanted moan only the swell Of the long waves that roll in yonder bay? And hark the clock within, the silver knell Of twelve sweet hours that past in bridal white, And died to live, long as my pulses play; But now by this my love has closed her sight And given false death her hand, and stol'n away To dreamful wastes where footless fancies dwell Among the fragments of the golden day. May nothing there her maiden grace affright! Dear heart, I feel with thee the drowsy spell. My bride to be, my evermore delight, My own heart's heart and ownest own, farewell. It is but for a little space I go: