22
ENOCH ARDEN.
But Philip sitting at her side forgot
Her presence, and remember’d one dark hour
Here in this wood, when like a wounded life
He crept into the shadow: at last he said,
Lifting his honest forehead, ‘Listen, Annie,
How merry they are down yonder in the wood.'
'Tired, Annie?’ for she did not speak a word.
‘Tired?’ but her face had fall’n upon her hands;
At which, as with a kind of anger in him,
‘The ship was lost,’ he said, ‘the ship was lost!
No more of that! why should you kill yourself
And make them orphans quite?’ And Annie said
‘I thought not of it: but—I know not why—
Their voices make me feel so solitary.’
Her presence, and remember’d one dark hour
Here in this wood, when like a wounded life
He crept into the shadow: at last he said,
Lifting his honest forehead, ‘Listen, Annie,
How merry they are down yonder in the wood.'
'Tired, Annie?’ for she did not speak a word.
‘Tired?’ but her face had fall’n upon her hands;
At which, as with a kind of anger in him,
‘The ship was lost,’ he said, ‘the ship was lost!
No more of that! why should you kill yourself
And make them orphans quite?’ And Annie said
‘I thought not of it: but—I know not why—
Their voices make me feel so solitary.’
Then Philip coming somewhat closer spoke.
‘Annie, there is a thing upon my mind,
And it has been upon my mind so long,
That tho’ I know not when it first came there,
I know that it will out at last. O Annie,
‘Annie, there is a thing upon my mind,
And it has been upon my mind so long,
That tho’ I know not when it first came there,
I know that it will out at last. O Annie,
