Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/31

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ENOCH ARDEN.
15
And pressure, had she sold her wares for lessThan what she gave in buying what she sold:She fail’d and sadden’d knowing it; and thus,Expectant of that news which never came,Gain’d for her own a scanty sustenance,And lived a life of silent melancholy.
 Now the third child was sickly-born and grewYet sicklier, tho’ the mother cared for itWith all a mother’s care: nevertheless,Whether her business often call’d her from it,Or thro’ the want of what it needed most,Or means to pay the voice who best could tellWhat most it needed—howsoe’er it was,After a lingering,—ere she was aware,—Like the caged bird escaping suddenly,The little innocent soul flitted away.
 In that same week when Annie buried it,Philip’s true heart, which hunger’d for her peace
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