 | Ernest |  |
They, in mean time, the inmates of that house,
Were busied with much care: Hermann that morn
In tremulous hurry had bidden them farewell
And homeward sped. Faith, a short stay, for one
Whose heart was rooted there: but why such haste?
Was it that Time was slow within those walls,
And therefore he would shorten it? or did stress
Of needful business overbear his will,
Bidding him far away? or did the brow
Of that fair maiden frown upon him then,
Erewhile so gracious? or the radiance
Of one yet fairer did it light his hope
Another way? No matter—little avails
To guess what none may know. Only he's gone:
And if that parting hour to him was sad,
'Twas tearful sorrow to a softer heart.
The careful mother marked her daughter's brow
Woefully drooping, and thus asked her why:—
Were busied with much care: Hermann that morn
In tremulous hurry had bidden them farewell
And homeward sped. Faith, a short stay, for one
Whose heart was rooted there: but why such haste?
Was it that Time was slow within those walls,
And therefore he would shorten it? or did stress
Of needful business overbear his will,
Bidding him far away? or did the brow
Of that fair maiden frown upon him then,
Erewhile so gracious? or the radiance
Of one yet fairer did it light his hope
Another way? No matter—little avails
To guess what none may know. Only he's gone:
And if that parting hour to him was sad,
'Twas tearful sorrow to a softer heart.
The careful mother marked her daughter's brow
Woefully drooping, and thus asked her why:—
| Ernest | |