ENOCH ARDEN.
25
Beheld the dead flame of the fallen day
Pass from the Danish barrow overhead;
Then fearing night and chill for Annie, rose
And sent his voice beneath him thro’ the wood.
Up came the children laden with their spoil;
Then all descended to the port, and there
At Annie’s door he paused and gave his hand,
Saying gently ‘Annie, when I spoke to you,
That was your hour of weakness. I was wrong,
I am always bound to you, but you are free.’
Then Annie weeping answer’d ‘I am bound.’
Pass from the Danish barrow overhead;
Then fearing night and chill for Annie, rose
And sent his voice beneath him thro’ the wood.
Up came the children laden with their spoil;
Then all descended to the port, and there
At Annie’s door he paused and gave his hand,
Saying gently ‘Annie, when I spoke to you,
That was your hour of weakness. I was wrong,
I am always bound to you, but you are free.’
Then Annie weeping answer’d ‘I am bound.’
She spoke; and in one moment as it were,
While yet she went about her household ways,
Ev’n as she dwelt upon his latest words,
That he had loved her longer than she knew,
That autumn into autumn flash’d again,
And there he stood once more before her face,
Claiming her promise. ‘Is it a year?’ she ask’d.
‘Yes, if the nuts’ he said ‘be ripe again:
While yet she went about her household ways,
Ev’n as she dwelt upon his latest words,
That he had loved her longer than she knew,
That autumn into autumn flash’d again,
And there he stood once more before her face,
Claiming her promise. ‘Is it a year?’ she ask’d.
‘Yes, if the nuts’ he said ‘be ripe again:
