Page:Wessex poems and other verses (IA wessexpoemsother00hard).pdf/114

 The rooms within had the piteous shine That home-things wear which the housewife miss; From the stairway floated the rise and fall Of an infant's call, Whose birth had brought her to this.

Her life was the price she would pay for that whine— For a child by the man she did not love. "But let that rest forever," I said, And bent my tread To the chamber up above.

She took my hand in her thin white own, And smiled her thanks—though nigh too weak— And made them a sign to leave us there; Then faltered, ere She could bring herself to speak.

"'Twas to see you before I go—he'll condone Such a natural thing now my time's not much—