Page:Poems Greenwell.djvu/46

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34
A STORY OF OLDEN TIME.
Now far and faint, as if it woke and died among the stars,
Now nearer, like a friend's kind voice beneath my prison bars,—
I thought some spirit of the blest watched o'er me from above,
And mourned for me, itself set free from all of earth but Love."
But sudden spake the Page, and clenched his hand, "To thee it seemed
That Love dwells only with the Dead; yet have the living deemed
That they could also love, I ween." No further word he said.
But ever fainter came his breath, and lower sank his head.
"Now rest on me, thou gentle youth, for thou art sorely spent;
So lean thy head upon my breast;" and ever as they went
Still firmer round his drooping form Lord Guilbert did enfold
His stalwart arm, and strove to wrap and shield him from the cold,
And whispered oft, "How farest thou?" and still the answer fell
As from a soul that moaned in sleep, "Yea, with me it is well."

So fared they on in silence, till at length, as dearer broke
A glimmer on the hill's dusk edge, the boy, as one that woke,