Page:Forget Me Not (1826).djvu/30
10 ALICE.
Hath she not left a track of brightness there,
That living sunbeam ?— Yon fair scene is made
For happiness. — You sigh.
Mrs. Neville. Oh, once it was!
Once — but that beauty now strikes to my soul —
A shivering chillness — oh, it smiles upon me,
As the cold moon upon the colder grave.
Thou know’st Lord Claremont —that fair hall
once owned
Another master. Hast thou never heard
The tale of shame and sorrow?
Henry. I have heard
Darkly, mysteriously enough to wake
Deep pity. Wouldst thou — stranger as I am,
I dare not ask
Mrs. Neville. Stranger although thou be,
There is a pity in thy voice, thine eyes,
Thy smile, that looks like garni thou art
born
To listen to sad stories. Didst thou ever
Hear of Sir Edward Mortimer?
Henry. The grandsire
Of this young lord? the master of yon grand
And reverend pile? Often.
Mrs. Neville. We was a man
Of that free spirit, which doth seatter bliss
As winds the summer blossom. In his eye
Dwelt mirth, and kindness in his speech, and lové
In his warm heart — love of all human kind.
Something men spake of wildness in his youth;
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