Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/102

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AYLMER’S FIELD.
Crueller: as not passing thro' the fireBodies, but souls—thy children's—thro' the smoke,The blight of low desires—darkening thine ownTo thine own likeness; or if one of these,Thy better born unhappily from thee,Should, as by miracle, grow straight and fair—Friends, I was bid to speak of such a oneBy those who most have cause to sorrow for her—Fairer than Rachel by the palmy well,Fairer than Ruth among the fields of corn,Fair as the Angel that said 'hail' she seem'd,Who entering fill'd the house with sudden light.For so mine own was brighten'd: where indeedThe roof so lowly but that beam of HeavenDawn'd sometime thro' the doorway? whose the babeToo ragged to be fondled on her lap,Warm'd at her bosom? The poor child of shame,The common care whom no one cared for, leaptTo greet her, wasting his forgotten heart,As with the mother he had never known,
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