 | Poems by Jean Ingelow |  |
IX
And I beheld thee: saw the lantern flashDown on thy face, when thou didst climb the side,
And thou wert pale, pale as the patient bride
That followed: both a little sad,
Leaving of home and kin. Thy courage glad,
That once did bear thee on,
That brow of thine had lost; the fervour rash
Of unforeboding youth thou hadst foregone.
O, what a little moment, what a crumb
Of comfort for a heart to feed upon!
And that was all its sum:
88
A drawing near by night,
To sigh to thee an unacknowledged greeting,
And all between the flashing of a light
And its retreating.
| Poems by Jean Ingelow | |