Page:The princess; a medley (IA princessmedley00tennrich).pdf/155

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A MEDLEY.
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And out of memories of her kindlier days,And sidelong glances at my father's grief,And at the happy lovers heart in heart—And out of hauntings of my spoken love,And lonely listenings to my mutter'd dream,And often feeling of the helpless hands,And wordless broodings on the wasted cheek—From all a closer interest flourish'd upTenderness touch by touch, and last, to these,Love, like an Alpine harebell hung with tearsBy some cold morning glacier; frail at firstAnd feeble, all unconscious of itself,But such as gather'd colour day by day.
 Last I woke sane, but well-nigh close to deathFor weakness; it was evening: silent lightSlept on the painted walls, wherein were wroughtTwo grand designs; for on one side aroseThe women up in wild revolt, and storm'dAt the Oppian law. Titanic shapes, they cramm'd
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