Lucile By Owen Meredith [i.e. E. R. B. Lytton] |
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Lucile | ||
XVII.
Lord Alfred, awake,Seem'd to wander from dream on to dream. In that seat
Where he sat as a criminal. ready to meet
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As surprising and all unexpected as strange,
To the judge from whose mercy indulgence was sought.
All the world's foolish pride in that moment was nought;
He felt all his plausible theories posed;
And, thrill'd by the beauty of nature disclosed
In the pathos of all he had witness'd, his head
And his knee he bow'd humbly, and faltering said,
‘Ah, Madam! I feel that I never till now
‘Comprehended you—never! I blush to avow
‘That I have not deserved you.’
Lucile | ||