Lucile By Owen Meredith [i.e. E. R. B. Lytton] |
 |
|
| I. |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. | VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVIII. |
| VI. |
| II. |
 | Lucile |  |
VIII.
His hand trembled strangely in breaking the sealOf the letter which reach'd him at last from Lucile.
At the sight of the very first word that he read,
That letter dropp'd down from his hand like the dead
Leaf in autumn, that, falling, leaves naked and bare
A desolate tree in a wide wintry air.
He pass'd his hand hurriedly over his eyes,
Bewilder'd, incredulous. Angry surprise
And dismay, in one sharp moan, broke from him. Anon
He pick'd up the page, and read rapidly on.
| Lucile | |