Page:Aurora Leigh a Poem.djvu/145

This page has been validated.
136
AURORA LEIGH.
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,I’ll thank you for the scissors. The old croneIs paralytic—that’s the reason whyOur Lucy’s thread went faster than her breath,Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!Why, Marian Erle, you’re not the fool to cry?Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar’s new dress,You piece of pity!’Marian rose up straight,And, breaking through the talk and through the work,Went outward, in the face of their surprise,To Lucy’s home, to nurse her back to lifeOr down to death. She knew by such an act,All place and grace were forfeit in the house,Whose mistress would supply the missing handWith necessary, not inhuman haste,And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:She could not leave a solitary soulTo founder in the dark, while she sate stillAnd lavished stitches on a lady’s hemAs if no other work were paramount.‘Why, God,’ thought Marian, ‘has a missing handThis moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.Let others miss me! never miss me, God!’
So Marian sate by Lucy’s bed, contentWith duty, and was strong, for recompense,To hold the lamp of human love arm-highTo catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,Until the angels, on the luminous side
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.