'Tis the bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the River Lee.
��ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING 678. Rosalind's Scroll
T LEFT thee last, a child at heart,
- A woman scarce in years:
I come to thee, a solemn corpse
Which neither feels nor fears. I have no breath to use in sighs ; They laid the dead-weights on mine eyes
To seal them safe from tears.
Look on me with thine own calm look :
I meet it calm as thou. No look of thine can change this smile,
Or break thy sinful vow : I tell thee that my poor scorn'd heart Is of thine earth thine earth a part:
It cannot vex thee now.
I have pray'd for thee with bursting sob
When passion's course was free; I have pray'd for thee with silent lips
In the anguish none could see ; They whisper'd oft, ' She sleepeth soft '
But I only pray'd for thee.