Page:Demeter and other poems (IA demeterotherpoem00tennrich).pdf/72

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THE RING
Miriam.She said—perhaps indeedShe wander'd, having wander'd now so farBeyond the common date of death—that you,When I was smaller than the statuetteOf my dear Mother on your bracket here—You took me to that chamber in the tower,The topmost—a chest there, by which you knelt—And there were books and dresses—left to me,A ring too which you kiss'd, and I, she said,I babbled, Mother, Mother—as I usedTo prattle to her picture—stretcht'd my handsAs if I saw her; then a woman cameAnd caught me from my nurse. I hear her yet—A sound of anger like a distant storm.
Father. Garrulous old crone.
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