Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/253

 Mary look'd up into his face,
 * And nothing to him said;

She tried to smile, and on his arm
 * Mournfully leaned her head.

And he burst into tears, and fell
 * Upon his knees in prayer:

Her heart is broke! O God! my grief,
 * It is too great to bear!

'Twas such a foggy time as makes
 * Old Sextons, Sir! like me,

Rest on their spades to cough; the spring
 * Was late uncommonly.

And then the hot days, all at once,
 * They came, we knew not how:

You look'd about for shade, when scarce
 * A leaf was on a bough.

It happen'd then ('twas in the bower
 * A furlong up the wood:

Perhaps you know the place, and yet
 * I scarce know how you shou'd)