austere;
More priestly reverence, than dishonouring fear.
Yet wherefore shun no less, if this were all,
His lonely chamber than his crowded hall?
For days, for weeks, perchance, unseen, aloof
Far as the poles, beneath one common roof,
She drew around her the cold spells, which part
From forward sympathies the unsocial heart.
Yet, strange to say, each seem'd to each still dear;
And love in her but curb'd by stronger fear;
And love in him by some mysterious pride,
That sought the natural tenderness to hide:
Did she but name him, you beheld her raise
Moist eyes to heaven, as one who inly prays.
News of her varying health he daily sought,
And his mood alter'd with the tidings brought:
If worse than wonted, it was sad to view
That stern man's trembling lip and waning hue,—
Sad, yet the sadness with an awe was blent,—
No words e'er gave the struggling passion vent;
And still that passion seem'd not grief alone,
Some curse seem'd labouring in the stifled groan:
Some angrier chord the mix'd emotion wrench'd;
The brow was darken'd, and the hand was clench'd.